Echoes

What would life be like on "the other side" of happiness? It's a place where the sun shines brightly without being too intense, where the night is not gloomy but the moon still brings a sense of brightness and where waking up in the morning fills you with utmost happiness. It's a world where words don't hurt but instead make you laugh, where tears are joyful rather than sad. I often wonder if such a life is possible for anyone, including myself. They say that every day is different, but I feel like I've been unfortunate enough to only experience fleeting moments of this kind of happiness. I yearn for days, months and years to be consistently like "the other side."

 Spiralling is when your thoughts multiply and your mind becomes cluttered, much like opening numerous tabs on your phone. You just can't seem to stop thinking. I become my own enemy in these moments. One day, I may feel unlucky in love and the next thought may be about my air conditioner malfunctioning for the tenth time. Then I'll think about not having achieved anything yet while another year passes by. These thoughts continue and I might even dwell on how the new shoes I bought turned out to be defective, making me feel like I wasted my money. The underlying theme of these thoughts is how unlucky I am.

 Have you ever done online window shopping where you save items to your favorites until you have enough money to purchase them? I have the incredible talent of collecting these random thoughts and storing them as favorites in my mind. This way, whenever I'm alone and not engaged in conversation, I can quickly retrieve them.

 

I started pondering why people spiral down. It often happens when we're at our lowest point in life or when we feel idle. However, I believe the most significant reason is not being heard or understood. Throughout our lives, we are constantly being taught by our parents, siblings, teachers, seniors, and bosses. But when do we actually feel heard? Unless you reach a certain level of importance in society, it seems impossible to be truly heard, even within your own family. It's crucial to be cautious, especially when no one takes you seriously and only superficially listens. This is even more unsettling because you believe you're being understood, but your words are falling on deaf ears. I've only recently learned the value of having a non-judgmental friend and a good therapist, but unfortunately, I have yet to find either. Perhaps this is just a rant, and you might skip over it and move on to something else before it even ends. Maybe you, too, have left me unheard.

Wholeness

When I say not everything is complete without him, I mean it. 

Like our  PTM without him treating us to ice creams,
even if our scores were average. 

A letter without him asking, "What do you want?"
even if the request was extravagant. 

A drive without him guiding us to uncharted paths,
even if he was exhausted from work. 

Shopping trips without him tagging along,
even if it wasn't his interest. 

Dinners without his charming demands
and our request for him to let us know before we start.

Lunches without him waiting for us,
even if he was famished. 

Our discussions flowed smoothly
even with his unrelatable questions,
yet we would still start over.

A table of gossips was dull without his poor jokes,
even though he would always be the first one to laugh.

Festivities without his captivating stories,
even if it was the 100th retelling.
They always felt fresh and intriguing. 

 Why? 

Because that’s our Baba
Nothing can go empty if he is around.
Everything is incomplete without him.
It will always be.
Because he completes us unconditionally.

Sailing together since '92

My Keeper

The day when I took her for a day out; Bombay

                         

 Adulting is hard! I was 10 when I wished to be 25, an adult earning and living life on her own terms. I wish to take back that wish and go back to when I was just 10, to tell her what adulting looks like and to wish more carefully. 

So my hitting hard becomes a lot easier with just the perfect timing of an “Eyyy” - a slang way of saying hello in our family. That’s her on the other side of the call. I could be having a bad day and her sudden morning cute pep-up quotes with little butterflies and flowers would just ease half the pain. That’s my mother and that's mom’s magic. There can't be a bigger magician or mentalist than a mother. She holds the power of your secret box. She can sense the hurt in your voice and the happiness in your shout! 

Where does this magic come from? I always wondered. It’s the bond that connected me even before I was born, which still holds us together. The unsaid things that were shared inside of me were spoken. We were bound to be best friends, isn’t it? We've struggled through ups and downs together and still do. But you know, amongst the secrets we shared, there’s something still unsaid. The part she doesn’t know too! 

Even a child knows what her mother is hiding behind those thoughts. When she looks at nothingness, there's certainly a worry for either one of us or a fictional scene happening. The thrill of seeing her smile when her favorite song plays and then realizing how deeply we understand each other through music is incomparable. Without us even realising , we continue to connect and provide solace to one another. We are each other's counselors ! When she sits at dinner with us, why does she get up last or wait for one of us if we aren’t there for dinner? Even if she has eaten, she would still be the last one to leave the table.Why would she hurt her hand and still cook birthday dinner without a frown? I might just have all the answers .  Because I've been with her before I was even born. That tiny bean knew right from the beginning. 

We play so many roles with each other but my favourite role would be of her BFF. I am her best friend and friends are forever secret keepers. Happy Mother’s Day BFF. 

My last call to Pappu Pager

"Bhaanje" will always have a special meaning for me. I can still hear without even turning my television on. That is the power of an actor. Humor is difficult, but making a child laugh is more difficult! And Satish Kaushik had me laughing to tears. I don't even remember how many times I've watched Mr Khiladi only to see mama smothering with "geeli pappi" to his bhaaanje. If there is him , there is sure shot entertainment.

He was also a graduate of my drama school. That sure did make me proud when I joined acting thinking he was here too. Growing up in the military, I always considered it an honour to pass away and leave a lasting legacy. Leaving behind a lot of memories of his contributions and the impression he had on us. For when I joined my drama school. I was aware that, though not to the same degree, actors also possess the power. And Satish dada( a name to signify our seniors) as I'll fondly call him sure did leave all such memories of my childhood spent in front of the TV laughing and just laughing.

My childhood's "Calendar" just ended. For there no longer would be another page to flip.

Calendar ab toh khaana do !!

An idle mind is the devil's workshop

Home, Uttarakhand

My grandfather never used to keep us idle when I was a kid. 

He'd keep us on our toes. 

Help him plant a new litchi tree in the backyard of our ancestral home, or watch him create a new loofah out of our tree. 

He used to play with us, watch us dance, or simply watch us play outside in the sun. Getting hurt, crying, and then laughing again was our life's lesson. That was him—my Nana!

As I grew older, I did the same, never remaining idle. I kept myself occupied by attending theatre rehearsals, workshops, and simply hanging out with friends. The lessons changed: playing outside in the sun became a concern, big buildings replaced our little house mini inventions in the backyard, and dancing was no longer an in-house morning ritual but only with friends at the club. As time passed, it became more difficult to get hurt and laugh again. Then came a time when the entire world came to a halt. It took me a long time to realise that I was not the only one sitting idle. I soon realised that the little red devil was inventing its own mini-machines in my idle mind. The devil devised many things, including a piercing loofah that scrubbed my peace of mind, forcing me to listen to all those dark songs that all heartbroken people listen to at some point in their lives, and forcing me to stay in bed and not workout. I saw myself eventually planning how to fight everyone around me, only to end up crying and not laughing again.

Little did I realise that what Nana actually taught was not to keep ourselves busy and running all the time, but to slow down,  to maintain our mental peace and calm That tree was planted solely for the purpose of getting closer to nature and watching our little baby grow. Morning rituals were only intended to brighten the day. Inventions were created to help us express our creative side, live a more sustainable lifestyle, and appreciate the small things in life. He was teaching me to slow down the whole time. Now, whenever my monkey brain hits the accelerator, I try to slow down and remember the great life lesson he made me experience.

Phone a friend !

Every day was a struggle for her. She never saw the sun rise on her side. The light never made its way through the curtains, but her eyes yearned for it. The eggs in her breakfast were scrambled, just like her life. As she remembered her dream from the night before, the tea tasted bitter. Welcome to Lamika's morning.

She opens her window only to welcome the kitchen sounds of her nosy neighbour. 

Crows cawing, cars honking, and trains passing through her line of sight were common sights. 

In the last two years, she's learned a lot. 

Perhaps the windows are just a way to escape and see other people's lives because ours is never interesting. 

The lady juggling ladles and bowls is a true magician. That sweeper

 is burying all of our dirt beneath the carpet. 

Car washers are, in fact, cleaning up the shite and mess we've made of nature. 

Oh, and how could we forget the latest fitness craze? 

The fitness tracker band has become our new best friend. 

Because it cares more abut her than her friend. 

The fitness tracker band is our new best friend. Well, because it cares about her more than her friend Namita did and senses even her stress level, it calms her down with a notification.

A ping from an unknown number triggered a quantum leap in her life. She tried to remember, amusing herself by pretending to know her. It wasn't the lady's frail voice but the clicking sound she made while speaking that drew her to Binsar Lane.

Her daily visit to her small cottage for a relaxing ginger tea and a buttery scrambled egg made her forget everything. 

Aunty's stories about going down the stairs for water every day and playing seven stones with boys 

How they'd make a ball out of plastics and it would hit her so hard that her skin turned red in some places. 

Lamika's face and eyes twinkled with delight as she listened to her stories all over again after years.

It wasn't a phone call, a trip down memory lane, or the perfect tea and eggs-it was the first and last person to wish her a happy birthday.

Gerascophobia — What does turning 30 do?

School’s first exam; that’s me on the left and I am also my sister’s best friend (Pune , Maharashtra, India)

I loved (and still love) being a child . Like they say, never let the child in you die . But mine died a little every day when I was nearing 30. Being in Indian society and the field of acting in the Indian industry , a woman should never have wrinkles on her forehead or in her life. My very existence was threatened by the fear of neighbours asking your age and giving you the surprised expression of “Why isn’t she married?”, “When will she get married?”, “Do you have someone in your life?”, “What have you done up to now?”, “Do you want to die alone?” and so on.

You know what the terror of answering a relative’s phone call is like in our society. It is like standing on a merry-go-round where you are struggling to hold the bars and having nervous laughter with the increasing speed of the machine. Slowly, the person’s voice diffuses in the air, and the vision becomes blurry and fuzzy. Yes, that’s what the phone call does . The last question at every family gathering is “who are you dating?” or “what is the next job lined up now “ or “why can’t you just get married before we get old?”

Isn’t it funny that I’m not racing against my time but theirs? I chuckle because that’s what I’m best at when I have so much to say but choose not to. In all these years of growing up, we have faced exams time and again. Our school, our college, work, and now life. And every time I had to take any test , I would end up getting sick. Now I know why. It was the fear of failing and disappointing my family. In the course of life , we forget and lose ourselves to everyone around us. To prove your worth and your survival. But I still want to save the little child from her life’s biggest exam-”Time.

As a child , I would love playing dodgeball, not knowing that the very game would teach me all the tricks and codes of my life’s exam . So every time the quiz starts , I visualise the questions as a ball and dodge my way out with a smile. Sometimes it does hit me in the wrong places and hurts too much. But getting up again is what my parents taught me.

Doodling back then (1996)

Finally, my 30th birthday was approaching, as was the exam, and I was surprised that I didn’t feel sick! Are you aware of what makes you unique and special? It occurs when friends in your immediate vicinity tease you for still being a child. And, true to their words, I celebrated as my 10-year-old self would. I celebrated for the kid in me, pampering her with new dresses and shoes and with the best of cake and balloons, slowly turning up the volume of her favourite song, “Just the way you are” by Bruno Mars.

This exam will occur on occasion. It does not have a date or a schedule. Do not look for any disclaimer signs in life. We all have different phobias that we are taught to confront. That evening, as I watched the bubbles in the glass slowly disintegrate, I reflected that it is no longer about growing old for me. It never was, but the fear of falling off the merry-go-round was.