I *Dove* blogging!

Anyone who knows me well, knows this about me. I am totally and utterly technologically-challenged. And by that I mean using any kind of technology – whether it is gadgets, my PC, or social networking sites. (Hell, I have been known to beat the crap out of my *keyboard* when the *internet* was down.) I couldn't even relate to blogging, until I discovered the joys of it quite by accident a year or so ago.

Which is why you’d almost never find me at a get-together of serious bloggers. Even I don’t take myself seriously as a blogger, so why should anybody else, right?

But I DID find myself at this Indiblogger meet a week ago that happened at Four Seasons, Mumbai. And I have only one person to thank for it! My dearest friend Purnima, who is, by the way, a game designer!

So she told me about the Indiblogger meet where they would have free mani-pedi, head massage, hair styling, and lunch sponsored by Dove. Did I mention it would be for free? We would also be meeting 100 fellow bloggers and exchanging notes, which is always a good thing.

But I was not prepared for what lay before us. Although the mani-pedi was cancelled (because of obvious logistical reasons), we did get a wonderful 10-min foot massage, hair styling – that included a hair wash – free vouchers, T-shirt, and gift hampers from Dove! 

We also played games, which were really good fun, and discussed how to get our blogs more ‘out-there’ - thanks to ideasmith. But most of all, I am thankful to Indiblogger and Dove for helping me connect with all those wonderful women, who are doing so much more than just blogging! They are superwomen in their own right!

I want to end with the slogan that our team ‘Fortune Seekers’ was required to come up during a treasure hunt game. And it was more or less created by this 11-year old blogger (or possibly a blogger’s daughter). It went: ‘We seek, we find. We got, you mind?’ Absolutely loved it!  

I hope you also find what you’re seeking.

Note: See pictures of the event here.

Crowd? What’s that?

Loneliness, thy name is Mumbai.

Whoever said that must have been drinking. Or visiting BMC headquarters after 6.01pm. No but seriously, Mumbai is a city where you can NEVER be alone. Even if you want to. Here, speace (an amalgamation of space and peace) is the ultimate luxury because whether you like it or not, someone is always stepping on your toes.

Here ‘rush-hour traffic' and ‘chivalry’ are terms that don’t hold any meaning anymore. Neither does ‘single, interesting men’. This means that people living in Mumbai have really lowered expectations now. They know it’s a good day when the first cab/auto they approach agrees to take them.

South Mumbai is no longer the place to be in, unless you’re old, retired and have lots and lots of money because all the ‘action’ (by which I mean the crowd) has moved to the ‘burbs. Gone are the days when we were packed like sardines; Mumbai is no better than a can of worms now. And if you don’t believe me, a tour outside Andheri (E) station might be an eye-opener.

Hell, who even has the time to feel lonely here? If you’re not elbowing and pushing, you are jostling and negotiating. And if you happen to be a woman, you’re busy learning the art of avoiding the nudge you know that oncoming new-to-town, spineless penile implant is going to give you.

Nope, just like empty political speeches and love, loneliness doesn’t stand a chance here. 

Meri jaan

Like most of life's momentous episodes, this one too happened when I wasn't looking. Or least expected. Guess I was too young to realise that I was falling in love. And soon enough I noticed that she loved me back. It was a heady experience – a love affair that grew to be so passionate that there was no measure between love and hate.

She was beautiful, from the inside and out. Now when I look at old photographs, I realised how pretty she once was and how totally granted I took her for. I still remember the romantic walks by Marine Drive and the happy moments we spent at the Hanging Garden.

And then the inevitable happened. She began to ignore me and started meeting new people. We drifted apart. She got around with some wrong kind of crowd, and somewhere down the line, seemed to have lost herself. And although I still see a glimpse of her old self now and then, it’s clear to see that the old magic has gone.

I still miss her terribly, but she’s indifferent to me now. She has new friends now and new lovers. It’s hard to say whether it was me who was disloyal or her. But it’s not the same anymore – she’s even changed her name now. Nostalgia isn’t what it used to be. Bombay…you seem to have lost your soul.  

Have you lost anything yet?

Elizabeth Bishop has gone on record to say that the ‘art of losing isn’t hard to master’. She says we get used to losing things so that after a time any loss ceases to matter.

The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster…

Something to it. And even if there isn’t, I think it might be worth a try. After all, isn’t it every other day we lose something or the other – a favourite pen, headphones, our mind, a friend, our soul.

I hear that the poetry of loss is a genre unto itself and there are many poets who've mourned the loss of something or another. What appeals to me is the theme's immediate poignancy - it's implications of tragedy. 

Bishop’s ‘One Art’ goes from losing a small thing like the door keys to bigger things like a continent (which I think is used as a metaphor, for what I don't know) and a friend. And the irony is that what she’s really trying to say in the end (according to experts who parse poems and things like that) is that we almost NEVER get used to losing things. We merely forget perhaps. This is evident in the last verse of her poem (where she’s grieving the loss of a loved one) – where she goes from “isn’t hard” to “not too hard”.

-- Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture

I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident

the art of losing's not too hard to master

though it may look like (Write it!) a disaster.

Still, I find it a good idea to take this perspective. After all, what have we got to lose? 

Oh, seedy!

Lately, I’ve been having this serious desire to wear disposable rubber gloves at home and outside. But I know I’d be doing that at the risk of appearing even more loony.  

I’ve known for some time now that I have a slight case of OCD. On good days, I have it completely under control. But there are days when I struggle. Which is why I find solace in watching ‘Monica’ do her thing in ‘Friends’.  

It started with wanting to keep all my school books neatly on my table, one on top of the other, at right angles. One thing led to another and I soon found myself de-cluttering all the time. My latest obsession is wearing gloves at all times so my hands remain clean – while opening the bathroom door, holding the train handles, touching the pantry table while eating lunch in office.

But I think of myself as among the saner ones. I know people who cannot get on with their lives if all the rupee notes in their wallet have not been arranged a certain way, who need to check at least three times if their car is locked before walking away, who must clean every inch of their house before they can step out. The list is endless, really.

Living with OCD is tough. But whats worse is when people around you don’t pretend to understand it. Fortunately, I’m comfortably in the green because it hasn’t started to affect my daily life. In fact, I often use it to my advantage, like when I have to go to the ‘burbs when its been raining (“it’s too dirty to travel”) or when mother asks me to cook (“I can’t work in a dirty kitchen”).

So it’s all good. At least till the time I don’t start getting my eyebrows done at right angles.      

‘I (might not) do’

A funny thing about being married – stay that way long enough and more often than not, you’de end up wishing you were single again.

This is borrowed wisdom, of course. I’ve spoken to so many married couples – some childhood sweethearts even – and sooner or later they always ‘fess up (almost never in front of their spouse though) that if they could turn back time, “and I love my kids very, very much,” they would never have gotten married.

Well, that’s mighty convenient. But the question I’m trying to raise here is: how wise a decision is it to get married in these times?

There cannot be one right answer to this. Because, let’s face it, singles have way more sex while married couples get to share the wealth with the added bonus of finding this one person whom they can annoy till the end of time.

And imagine the level of commitment you require to get married. Husbands have to relinquish their right to say ‘no’ when their wives ask for the car keys. And wives, well, they must cook!

One argument I’ve always heard for being hitched is that you earn the respect of the rest of your family. Plus, you get sex on-demand. But like someone said many years ago, is it wise to buy the entire aircraft for the free peanuts?

In the end, the debit side balances out the credit side. Still, there's got to be an element of truth in all those marriage jokes floating around in cyberspace. My favourite one is: You know what I did before I got married? Anything I wanted to! That’s what I’m talking about…

Are you a sellout yet?

I feel hugely honoured at having residence in the same lane (actually just two buildings away) that Gandhiji chose to live for almost 17 years of his life. His bungalow is now converted into a museum called Mani Bhavan, which is a big tourist attraction.

So you’de think that giving directions to my house would be easy, right? Wrong. The give and take usually goes something like this:

Person: So, where do you stay?

Me: In Gamdevi, very close to Mani Bhavan.

Person: Money-what?

Me: The Gandhi museum?

Person: Ummm…

Me: You know the West Side on Hughes Road?

Person: Ah! Say that way na…

See what I mean? Our landmarks have changed, our reference points have taken a tumble. And it makes me wonder whether we’re giving more importance to something that’s more or less irrelevant. These days, we give directions via malls, shops and restaurants.

And if someone hasn’t noticed it yet, we’re also getting increasingly afflicted by this infectious disease called mall madness. Yep, India’s economy is booming. And this same mall madness is partly responsible. But im not sure if its worth it anymore.

Oh, and another thing. What’s synonymous with Mumbai monsoons? Apart from potholes and floods, that is. Yep – SALE! It has the power to alleviate our spirits and excite us. It’s now a conversation-starter; to hell with the weather.

Not the one to stay behind, I outdid myself this season by spending as much money on indulgences as I normally do in 6 months! And I’m completely disgusted with myself. Whatever happened to ‘less is more’? And im not talking about the pink halter top I just bought.

My new motto in life: buy only when there’s a sale. Every time.