End of the World

It was predicted that the world would end in 2012. 

It didn't. 

I got married that year. Probably the end of my days of peace and fulfilment.

There are so many events that spell doom for us, and we think if such and such thing happens, then my life is over. 

When I was in school, one of my umpteen teen secrets was that I couldn't for the life of me, memorize the multiplication table of 17. I was so sure that everyone else but me knew all tables by rote that it distressed me no end. Now when I look back, I barely recall having used the table in all my growing up years. But back then, it was something that appeared a major obstacle in my education, career and reputation. (Little did I know that my peers and elders did not know the math tables of 13, 14, 15 and 16 either, and anyway what are calculators for?!!) 

That's just a tiny example, one of many that would spring to your mind as well, when something seemed unsurpassable and daunting.  

Right now, as my son displays all wonders and disasters of toddlerhood, there are so many things that stand out as "can do" and "cannot do", and become benchmarks for moms who enjoy (or can't help) comparing their kids with others. I've never been one of those moms, I knew my child would cross his milestones as and when he was ready, and sooner or later, all kids are able to do everything that is required of them. (All of us grew up just fine, didn't we, no matter what our scores in school, no matter what our experiences in life.) Some of us did better than the others in certain fields, and the others are happier though they may not have done anything that seems extraordinary to the rest. I know my classmates who flunked in school while I scored near perfect marks, and now they're settled in all parts of the globe, earning probably way more than I do, and ticking off items in their wishlists and their lucky spouses' too! Life's fair, everything balances out in the long run. 

Coming out of the closet and divulging the truth about yourself to society is a fate worse than death to our earlier generations. Everything was swept under the rug, and people pretended everything was fine, just so that society did not look at them funny or criticise them. Fortunately, our generation is more honest and upfront about confessing our realities - be it our sexual orientation, marital status, career preference, life goals, etc. Our parents may not approve, but most of them do support us and allow us that blessed chance to do what our hearts say. Society, that comprises folks like our parents, thus follows suit and while they still whisper behind closed doors, stories are forgotten and new ones take their place. 

I had an inter-caste marriage, much to the agony of my family: blood as well as in-laws, for various reasons. But since many youngsters then chose partners across religions, I did not ruffle too many feathers. I thought it was the start of my happily ever after. It was cursed even before it started, and over the years, I realised that I would regret this union, though I'd skipped the regret of not having taken a chance (which is a lot more common). 

For 3 years I tried to make it work, sometimes alone, sometimes with the help of the "wonderful" (ex) husband (who objects to being mentioned on this blog, though he religiously stalks me here since I've blocked him on Facebook and WhatsApp and my real life, and threatens to sue me for defamation, for citing things that I've experienced in real. Bollocks! All he wants is to avoid paying maintenance for the kid, just like he avoided all duties and responsibilities of husband-hood and fatherhood. Which I'm okay with! Good riddance to bad shit, even at the cost of an arm and a leg.) 

My marriage was not meant to be. I should have quit many years ago, but hope and the shame of divorce kept me going. I felt that a love marriage (or any marriage, for that matter) should never end. It was a promise for life. End of a marriage, meant end of the world (yet again). 

Had I been sensible and known that I'd have to change my opinion, I'd have changed it sooner and saved a beautiful creature from being impacted. But well, this angel being there is a blessing to me as well. Plus the knowledge of how tolerant, how wicked and how loving I can be, which was an eye opener for me as well.  

Oddly, they talk about mutual consent divorce. How can divorce be mutual consent, why does it need to be? If one person lets go off the handshake, there is no handshake - it does not depend on the other person withdrawing his hand or not. Marriage needs to be mutual consent, not divorce. And divorce is not the end of the world like I thought it was. It is the end of my sacrifices and suffering, and I have come to terms with it. My dear husband probably hasn't, since he doesn't want to let me go free, though he's the one desirous of freedom and no-strings-attached-relationships.

So separation - better late than never. I'm not the only one, and I am definitely one of the luckier ones, who at least have a choice, and means, reasons and ways to survive. Better than those couples who stay together due to limitations and helplessness, and certainly better than couples who pretend to be together but are more distant than strangers. "Choosing to be miserable together than happier alone", as I read on Scoopwhoop, and exactly my condition up until last year...  

We all have our reasons. We all have our methods. We all choose to sanction some things, and we detest some others. We are all right. We are all wrong. And we all co-exist. Our perspectives change, our wisdom rises above the petty and prejudices.

And the world only ends when we stay stuck, refusing to move on. Find your miracle, be your saviour. Uncover your strengths and reveal your dreams. Nothing can hold you back, if you really want to be happy. The world only ends when you lose faith.  

The world ends. For you.

Reality? It is always alive. Never dies. Never will. No matter what. Even if you cease to exist, the world shall still go on. So don't take yourself too seriously, don't beat yourself up over your mistakes and bad decisions. It was all meant to happen. You were supposed to learn those lessons and experience that anxiety and pain, all so that you could be who you are today, better than yesterday, ready for tomorrow. 

Smile and say hello, it's a beautiful world. And it's immortal. 

(You're not . So make every day count, and enjoy each moment.) 

Cheers!
Anuja

Express Daily

"If nothing fascinates you, you're not living."


She used to say that to me all the time. And I used to wonder why it was necessary for me to be wild and excited about anything; everything was o dull and mundane. Stars in her eyes did not justify calling the world gorgeous, right?



A rainbow, a puppy cuddled in the centre of the street, a flowerbud - all these silly events had her ooh-ing and aah-ing no end. 


Like the other day, she made me stop on the narrow bridge because she wanted to watch the sun setting on the horizon. I mean, a bridge, of all places? Couldn't her valuable viewing have permitted a few more seconds to ride a few more metres? We stood there like fools, she blissfully lost in the scenery, and me shamefully aware of all the hooting people and honking vehicles. When she finally allowed me to move over, I was literally in tears with anger, embarassment and irritation.


But I could not say a word to reprimand her.

A man without hope has little else, they say. But the doctors had not considered that when they stripped me of all assurances and prayers.

 

Miracles were not mine to hope for anymore.


Agatha had a congenital condition that had no cure or treatment.


After multiple visits to the hospital, the doctor told me in not so vague terms that there was no point in wasting his or my time - there was nothing anyone could do for Agatha. All I could do now was to ensure that every breath Agatha took was special.


She had few left.


Time passed, and Agatha turned 6. It was time for all kids her age to go to school. Grade 1 beckoned and Agatha was animated like never before. She wanted to learn to read and write and spell.


We had home-schooled her for the last 2 years, and though she got tired easily, her enthusiasm never dipped. I was frankly against her joining a regular school, and quoted all the reasons and excuses possible for her to give up the thought. After our fifth discussion in 3 days on the topic, she calmly said to me, "You dont want me to be away from you, and that's why you are asking me to stay home".


I hadn't admitted that to anybody aloud, not even myself, and here she was, aware of my guilty secret all along.


I could neither accept it nor deny it, so I did the next best thing. I walked away.


She followed.


"So, will you get me enrolled in school?"

"We'll see. I'll ask the doctor tomorrow."

"He said yes. I called him last evening."

WHAT??!!!

"Hmm. Guess you're old and smart enough to know what's right for you. So okay, take Grandma along and get yourself enrolled."

"Can you go with me? Granny can't speak English too well, and they interview the ward's guardians."

Someone had done her research.


"Okay"

"What time?"

She wouldn't give up...

"6 pm."

"Can we make that 5 pm? The school office shuts at 6."

"Fine."

"Thanks Papa. I love you."


And there went my resolve to be angry with her.                                              

2 years later when she passed away, I couldn't say that I was surprised one bit. Not by the timing, not by the enormous turnover at her funeral, not by even the detachment with which I handed over all her toys and possessions to the orphanage as she had firmly instructed me to.


"You don't need those things around you to remind you of me. I know you will never forget me, even if I ask you to. Besides, the children at the orphanage sure need these things more than anybody else."                         

Even now, after 8 months, when I look at the routine phenomena that Agatha would have found wondrous, a tear escapes my eye. And I don't attempt to wipe it.

That's one thing she never wanted us to do... Hide what we truly thought or felt, appreciated or wanted.


I have hidden it, time and again. For reasons kind and mean. We all have to. But I try not to.


Are YOU brave enough to express yourself? Or do you cower and follow the pack, too scared to have an independent opinion or voice?

Agatha taught me that... Do you want an Agatha in your life to leave you with that lesson??



Cheerio!

Princess

Fright Time

If you're as big a horror movie buff as me, then you sure need to watch the films listed below (unless you have already, in which case you can watch them again)...


Let me also tell you that I get freaked out by most movies, or atleast some scene in most spectral movies. This might make you call my taste rubbish, but hey, this is my blog, and I will talk about my fav horror films in this post. Just so we're clear :-)


Here's the "ghostly" list (not in any particular order). 7 movies for the next week, one night at a time...



1. Bhoot - My all time fave Hindi horror movie. It was a rage back then, but even now, you will see people speaking about Urmila's awesome acting and the terrific direction. This Bollywood movie gave me sleepless nights, and had me clamoring each time it was talked about or screened on TV (edited obviously, but exciting nevertheless). Good performances by the other actors, too - Rekha, Ajay Devgn (Devgan / Devgun / whatever).


2. Forget me not - I watched this recently and loved the climax. Totally unexpected end. It's about a group of friends and how their friends start forgetting them once they are dead. Who's killing them? Why? How is everybody's memory erased? Great watch.

3. Ragini MMS - Interesting story, simple yet gives you the chills. A guy tries to seduce his girlfriend to create a porn video, and things start going awfully wrong in the deserted house.


4. The Exorcism of Emily Rose - Now this is a brilliant movie, perfect in every sense. A lot of its scenes have been ripped off by other unimaginative directors. Yet, the thrill quotient is nothing short of extreme. No doubt you've watched a lot of exorcism dramas, but this one really takes the cake. Don't miss it.

5. Pet Cemetry - A very old movie, but remains on the top 10 list of any horror page. It's a story of a family that loses a pet and then a child. With a life-giving cemetry situated next door, what would you expect?


6. Raaz / 1920 - Now I am not particularly fond of the actors in both these films, but there is something very rugged and believable about them both. Dead lovers and their vengeance - that thought deserves a rightful place on this list. Watch and enjoy!!


7. The Ring - Innovative. Creepy. Nice flick. You watch a movie, and then get someone else to watch it right after so that you can skip being murdered. What's the story? Who's the little girl? Crazy sh*t.


I could recommend a lot of other movies - Shelter, The Unborn, Talaash, Vaastu Shastra, Shining, Phoonk 2, Apparition, Darna Mana / Zaroori Hai and some others that are more thrilling than horror like The Omen, Final Destination, Orphan and Bhool Bhullaiya. I also know Paranormal Activity and Blairwitch have their own charm, but I don't like the live camera series. Borrrrrring to keep watching for 2 hours and get scared for less than 2 minutes. Need something faster and scarier.


Happy, spooky December !!!

Boo :-)

Princess

Book Review for Blogadda : Barnabas

Five words...

"A very, very good book"

The shortest review ever and the most appropriate.

Barnabas, written by Sangeeta Nambiar is a murder mystery investigated by a young, intelligent chap, self-proclaimed "the first Private Detective of Bombay".

- Bombay, coz the book is set in the pre-Independence era (though thats the name I still use and prefer)

- Barnabas, coz the word rhymes with "bandobast" - a term that the protagonist's father has memories about.

Now Barnabas, as some of you might know, was one of the earliest Christian disciples in Jerusalem.

Not that that has any link to this story. Except maybe for one line about "flock" and religion.


When Blogadda sent me this book to read and review, I liked the cover (although I rarely judge a book by that feature). I don't expect too much from books of late, so this one came as a very pleasant (and rare) surprise. The author is extremely gifted and superbly simple. Isn't that the best combination to create a delightful story?

The vocab is sprinkled generously with words that will impress you and make you run for the dictionary. So also, is the modesty and honesty of the detective who has no qualms in confessing that mundane observations and conclusions skip him. You see him growing through the pages and his cracking the case soon becomes a personal victory for you as well. While I'd hit upon the solution long before it was spelt out in the climax, I enjoyed the stumbling and exploring, conversations and nightly excursions undertaken by Barnabas. The author has fantastically woven into the mystery, the upbringing and philosophical side of Barnabas, a true masterthought, as it helps you relate better with the detective and empathize with his well-wishing father and uncle. Even as you detest the nosiness and commanding attitude of the British policeman, and the high-mightiness of the firang folk. That's as far as our patriotism goes in the 21st century. LOL

 
The plot itself speaks about a woman who leaves her husband's house and is found dead in a remote, unlikely location. Characters include her domestic help, husband, friend, sister, the police and obviously Barnabas and his folks. Allusions to the freedom struggle and important entities are several, but they do not take away from the book, rather they add flavor and passion to the scenes.

The writer's theatrical background is clearly evident from the way the enigma unfolds. The plot, though not totally original, has its fair moments of surprise and revelation.

As I said, very, very well written. Not a waste of time or money at all.

(Not that I had to pay any; Blogadda has sent me most of the books that I am reading these days in exchange for my thoughts on the books.)



So, when are you grabbing your copy of Barnabas?


Cheerio!
Princess

The Wednesday Soul - Book Review

Here I am, this is me, and there’s truly nowhere else I’d rather be…

To quote Bryan Adams… (more or less)

(Hats off to the magnificent singers and lyricists who come up with a song that fits every circumstance. Come any incident in life, and I have a pertinent and melodic song on my lips. Glorious and heartening, innit?!!)

But well, that’s not what this post is about – a song for every situation. This writeup comes to tell you about my recent read “The Wednesday Soul” by Sorabh Pant (and how can I forget the very important tagline, an obligation now for every title) – “the afterlife with sunglasses”. Sent to me by Blogadda (3^rd book so far), thanks a lot BA team! It sure is a pleasure, this time, every time…

Why The Wednesday Soul (TWS) is named thus, I honestly have no idea.

To spill the already-spilt beans, I can tell you that the book is about afterlife and one of the important characters is a Wednesday Soul (assuming all souls up there are named after days of the week, based on their way of death and varied responsibilities). The sunglasses that command a dominating position in the tagline (a significant place, in my opinion, not bestowed upon other lesser phrases) figure in not more than 2-3 lines somewhere in the book. However, I shall pardon Mr. Pant for that. I completely believe in a free world phenomenon and freedom of thought of choice.

On that note… (Belated) Happy Republic Day!

(Sheesh, how could I forget?!! Blame it on the fortunate fact that I no longer need to wake up at the crack of dawn in the brain-numbing cold to go to school for the flag hoisting. And drag along my poor dad as well to pick and drop me. In the reverse order.)

Back to the review, pardon my nostalgic tirade.
A foreword though, before I proclaim my verdict.

Writing a book (or directing/producing a movie, for that matter) is no piece of cake. Anyone can become a critic, ain’t no big deal to censure what someone else does or says. Actually creating something, now that takes effort and dedication. So, to inventors and designers across the globe, RESPECT… Good job, ladies and gentlemen.

You, too, Sorabh Pant. For coming up with an idea that is rare and innovative. I’m tired of those silly chic-flicks and love stories. Though yours has one as well, it thankfully does not dominate the entire story or become a predictable melodramatic sequence of events, oh so Bollywoodesque.

“Hankypanty” (as a friend informed me) is quite a rage on Twitter.

(No, I am not on Twitter, just in case you were wondering. I have got better things to do than keep updating my status every nanosecond.)

The story (finally coming to it) is about a re-belle who meets an untimely death, and goes up in the sky (amidst extremely complicated procedures and tiresome, technical imagery). Characters from hither-thither make her after-life difficult and easy, and various revelations occur as the pages turn. Drab and stretched at times, absorbing and amusing at other times, this 209 page paperback is good for a quick read as you travel someplace or light, hobby-like reading for folks who are renewing their reading habits. For the more seasoned reader, well, it’s a maybe. It’s got fiction, mythology, general knowledge and science all rolled into one – and it may work for some and fall flat for the rest.

They say “never judge a book by its cover” but the glossy coat does make the book appear very sophisticated. While the summary on the back cover seems intriguing and creative, the recommendations by Mayank Shekhar and Vir Das can be taken with tablespoonfuls of salt. I did not “die laughing” (as you can see, I’m well and alive, a little under the weather if you may, but nothing time cannot cure, thank you for the concern), nor did I “laugh my ass off” (no comments on that one. This is a family blog.)

Purab Kohli, now him I’ll agree with. TWS is interesting, it has loads of imagination and vivid visualization (ekdum Avatar style). Jokes abound in the novel, some that shamed even me (which is saying a lot going by the “PJ Queen” tag that I command at my workplace) and some that bounced right off my pea-size brain.

The suspense could have been better and the war could have been shorter. Monotony takes over as the powerful characters lose their lustre. Better editing to grip the reader’s mind and shocks that actually stun the reader – now those are things I missed. The typos and flawed formatting leave much to desire if you consider at this book as a potential bestseller, but then I’m sure not too many other readers would notice – I tend to be more critical and systematic in my presentation and expectations. Call me superficial, if you wish. I could go back to my free world philosophy and harangue you…

All in all, not a bad read at all. But certainly needs to give way to something better.

Well well, then I gotta get going… Ayn Rand’s Fountainhead is still waiting on my shelf to be read and completed. Though, leme confess, I’m stealing sly glances at the thinner and expectedly more comical “Karl, Aaj aur Kal” by Cyrus Broacha that I bought today on a random visit to Crossword…

Hasta la Vista, mi chicos!! Son las doce y media. Pues, Buenas Noches :-)

Abrazos y Besos,
Princess

This review is a part of the http://blog.blogadda.com/2011/05/04/indian-bloggers-book-reviews" target="_blank">Book Reviews Program at http://www.blogadda.com">BlogAdda.com. Participate now to get free books!

And now when I know why...

I stood there in the rain. Waiting for you.

You never came.

With my every raindrop, I could sense increasing panic.
Where were you?
Were you all right?
Did you lose your way?
Would you come late as usual?

The shower brought anxiety, but no answers.

As the breeze ruffled the lace on my dress, I thought about how defiant you had seemed when I spoke about us ending this relationship. Our families would never agree to the union, I’d said, it was futile. You looked at me, willing me to take back my words. I didn’t. And you vowed to make me yours no matter what happened.

Secretly, I rejoiced. Your passion and need for me made me feel wanted and prized. Special beyond my wildest dreams.

But outwardly, I just stared into your deep brown eyes and sighed. It was going to be one hell of a struggle. “We’ll win, don’t you worry, my sunshine”, you said calmly.

Just as calmly as I’d packed my haversack this evening.

I couldn’t say we hadn’t tried. We’d both done our best. But then, I already knew it was not going to work. Our families were too deep-rooted in their “traditions” and swore by the “societal norms”. The stuff that we called phony was their way of life. I couldn’t blame them, one man’s food was another man’s poison. But I sure resented them for giving the community precedence over their own blood child.

You stood listening to my daily tussles, relating to me what you’d put up with the previous night. Your determination gave me strength, your love gave me power. I knew you’d find a way for us to be together.

And then you said there was no way but to elope.

I didn’t bat an eyelid before I said ok.

What did I have to fear? I loved you, and I knew I wanted to be with you.

I couldn’t be without you… That thought made my decision easier.

You, for your part, worked everything down to the minutest details. I was astounded to see how carefully you’d mapped everything, you’d obviously been thinking about this all those nights we feigned sleep. My love and admiration for you grew, if that were possible.

You said you’d made arrangements, and I trusted you blindly. You explained why it was essential that I withdraw all my money from the bank, and how I needed to ensure that no one ever knew that I was giving it to you to plan a better life for us.

The raindrops dripped from the branch overhead on my nose, the wind punctuating every drop with a whoosh.

Where were you, I screamed into the darkness for the thousandth time.

I was greeted with silence. Or turbulence. Whichever way you looked at it.

I stood there all night, expecting you to come up around the turnaround and mutter some lame apology and excuse, and then I would get mad at you and urge you to dash off before someone saw us.

It never happened.

The rain subsided. Night gave way to dawn. Sunrise came and then noon. My weary eyes still searched for you. Milkmen, newspaper vendors, school kids and professionals made their way to their destinations as I waited, depression and disappointment embracing me like a loving mother.

I did not weep. I felt my anger drain away. I guess they were all right when they said that you were duping me. That you never loved me, only used me as and when convenient. It wasn’t your mistake, it was mine. I couldn’t blame you for my faith in you.

I had nowhere to go, no one to turn to. I’d let your love seclude me, exclude me from all the people and things that were earlier mine to command and cherish.

But they’re bang on when they say that blood is thicker than water. Shame-faced, I knocked on the door and mum answered it. She looked dishevelled, but the sight of me at the door kicked her into action. She grabbed me, made me sit down and sip some water. I did not realise when the tears flowed. Neither of us said a word as she fed me and put me to bed.

I lost track of time. I just noticed the alternating light and darkness. I gazed into nothingness and cared about no one, not even myself. The “living dead” was what they would have titled me in their fancy books on psychology and fiction.

“Beta, your cupboard is a mess. Why don’t you clean it up today? It’ll give you something to do and take your mind off…” her voice trailed away. We’d never spoken about that day again, and she could not break the unspoken code.

I did not argue, I did not have the right or the energy to do that. If that is what would please her and make her feel that I was getting back to “normal”, so be it.

“And line the drawers with paper, keeps the dust away…”

I’d never quite understood that concept, and had voiced my disagreement on previous occasions. But today, I just quietly obeyed her thumb rule. She loved me. Unconditionally. Under any circumstances. That was more than sufficient for me to do her simple bidding.

It was the least I could do…

As I unfolded the paper and arranged it symmetrically on the middle shelf, a picture in the corner caught my eye.

A young, handsome boy had skid and dived headlong from a cliff the night it had poured.

You hadn’t left me that night. But you’d left me…

Never to return…

…

- Princess

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Dead Man Talking

You're taking me for a ride coz I have faith in you, right?
Congrats you're succeeding.

You want to break me down and laugh in my face, right?
Congrats you're succeeding.

You wana see my beaten and begging, right?
Congrats you're succeeding.

You wana wipe my smiles away with my own flowing tears, right?
Congrats you're succeeding.

You wana prove to me how helpless I am, and how much you control me, right?
Congrats you're succeeding.

You wish to shame me in front of the very people who were worse than me once, right?
Congrats you're succeeding.

You want to kill my pride and self-esteem, make me humble and diffident, right?
Congrats you're succeeding.

Lucky in exams, unlucky in education. No too lucky in career, reasonably lucky in life.
Not lucky with friends, and certainly not lucky in love.
Feeling forgotten and defeated.
That's what you desired?
Congrats you're succeeding.

People moved on with their jobs and partners, while I kept waiting for life to happen.
I helped and respected the disadvantaged, while others ridiculed them.
I tried to spread joy, while others selfishly made merry and hurt others.
I suffered while other rejoiced.
That's what you wrote out for me, right?
Congrats you're succeeding.

You gave me a false sense of self-sufficiency, and left my peace incomplete.
Something was always missing, and my bliss was halved.
Gave you power and contentment, right?
Congrats you're succeeding.

Each time someone stood up for me, each time someone was there for me.
You were restless and you snatched away all that you could.
Each time I got up after u tripped me you promised to try harder.
Congrats you're succeeding.

I'm so distressed, so depressed, frustrated and lost.
My sorrows and failures are unsurmountable.
I'm so low, I couldn't possibly be dragged to any further depths of hell and cynicism.
Mission accomplished?
Congrats you're succeeding.

As I'm waiting to die, you keep me alive.
As I pray for relief from the pain, you force me to survive.
Gives you a sadistic sense of superiority, right?
Congrats you're succeeding.

My wretched life yearns for mercy, as I put on a brave front.
I'm crumbling day by day.
Is this what you wanted to see?
Congrats you're succeeding.

Enjoy the feeling while it lasts.I'm not fighting back.
I'm not capable of it anymore.
Do all the terrible you can. I'll take it.
Atleast one of us is succeeding.
Atleast one of us is happy.
Carry on. I'm right here.
Will stay till you say.


As if I have a choice!


- Dead Inside

Chaadni Raatein

Chaandni raatein… Sab jag soye, hum jaage, taaro se karein baatein…

One of my fav songs…

I find it hard to fall asleep immediately after work. So, when I get home post midnight, I usually watch TV or read or yak with some night owls, in that order. And of course, visit Facebook - the lifeline of youth today.

What I’ve certainly not done for as long as I can recall is sit back a moment and just relish nature. Keep all thoughts at bay and appreciate the many beauties of the ecosystem…

The simple joys of living. The uncomplicated beauty of nature. The mind not engaged in any contemplations or worries. The heart not burdened by any sorrows or dilemmas. Just the cool breeze and the soul, mingling together and exchanging unspoken thoughts.

When did all this revolutionary realization strike me?

When one unthinking moment in the night, I clumsily stepped onto the elegant sofa in our living room and pushed my face outside the huge French window.

The cool night breeze caressed by cheeks and chilled my stressed eyes and head.

My aunt calls such moments “enjoying my balcony” (terrace / house / mangoes / as applicable).

To me, it was nothing less than paradise. I clung onto the moment spellbound, unwilling to let go, wanting the night to regale me with all the pleasures it had to offer a newbie…

It dawned on me why dogs love to place their wet nose outside the window as cars zoom past. Trust me, it was splendid! Pity I’ve missed it all these days.

Better late than never… I vow to do it more often and give the TV and FB some respite.

Apart from this one-off instance, what I do on most nights is watch TV. While there usually isn't much to watch on the idiot box at that ungodly hour, it’s often past 3 by the time I force myself to sleep. Reruns of popular shows and films on Sony Pix, World Movies and Zee Studio keep me entertained.

So, the other day I switched on the television, and I saw that the blockbuster Titanic had just begun. It's a lovely movie - touching, horrifying, beautiful and tragic; all at the same time. I thought I'd see a few scenes and then go to bed.

Need I tell you that that wasn't what happened…

I was glued to the sofa for the next 3 hours, despite having seen the film several times before. When I next looked up at the wall clock (a pretty and unique one that I bought when our den was being renovated), it proudly declared 4 am. Wow, time for the early birds and my mum to rise, and high time for me to catch some shut-eye.


What made me watch the film again, you ask?

Death. And the foresight of it.

Are you afraid of death? Do you not want to die? How is it knowing you’re going to die someday? What if you knew when you were going to die?

To answer my questions myself – no, I am not afraid of death. At least not death as a concept. Sure, I don’t want to bid adieu in a slow, painful way. I’d prefer the quick, instantaneous types where I don’t even realise its pack up time…

I don’t not want to die. I don’t not want to live either. I know death is inevitable. As mum always reminds me, the time for each one to be born, to marry and to die is fixed. Your time of demise is finalised the very second you’re born. So, I am aware its going to happen, and as I have no regrets in life, I don’t mind saying goodbye when the time comes… Frankly, I don’t know if I will be ready when it actually happens or if all my wishes will have been fulfilled leaving me content and happy. But I do know that I won’t curse god or beg to live. I’ll accept it gracefully.

If I knew when I was going to die, I’d definitely freak out a little and mark it on my calendar!

Before the destined hour, I would make all the telephone calls, visits and donations that I need to make, and joyfully tell everyone that I love them. I’ll thank them for making my living moments cheerful, memorable ones and I’ll also ask for forgiveness if I’ve intentionally or unintentionally hurt them. And last but not the least, I’ll tell them I’m going away forever and not to miss me too much. And hey, don’t not miss me either :-)

As Jack and Rose sped through the watery confines that were soon to become coffins for so many, I was filled with dread and compassion. It is one thing to wait for it in its own sweet time, and entirely another to see it coming, with as much certainty as night follows day. I speculated whether I would jump into the sea and just stop swimming, letting the waves take me where they may and finally drown me when they were done playing. Or would I gasp and flail and try to swim and keep afloat, hoping that someone would come to help. Or would I stay on the boat itself, like the captain and a few other passengers, savouring my last moments of life…

I had no answer then. The answer fails me now too.

But I do know this. If I ever happen to be disabled beyond repair or hospitalised for life, I don’t want that life. Please kill me. Euthanasia might be a crime. But I cannot expose myself to pain and others to inconvenience for a few hours / days / weeks of laboured breathing. I will not have needles stuck into me, so what if the absence thereof cuts short my life by a few months? I’d rather live a short, healthy, independent life with respect than a lengthy one that is a trouble for me and others alike.

Oh, and make sure my eyes are donated. I want someone to be able to see. To understand what colours are, to know what beauty is, to watch playful puppies and the sultry sunrise... to feel blessed…

Just like what I felt when I looked outta the window that night in my house…

Love,
Princess

Dum-Darr

I marvel at people that live life on the edge - daredevils who engage in terrifying stunts and freaky adventures. The folks that they show in movies and TV shows, and also the ones that do them live putting their lives at stake, giving life and safety the middle finger. Call them bold, label them imprudent – they sure believe in adrenaline rushes and living life in the fast lane.

I wouldn’t call myself rigid or sissy, but I do have a preference to live a safe, organized life with a decent amount of predictability and control. I enjoy doing things out of the ordinary, but death-defying exploits and I aren’t exactly what you’d call on the same side of the coin. I’m not afraid of dying, and I do relish the occasional high that risks bring, but the fear of an accident occurring and marring me for life is more forbidding.

Life is treacherous, we all know it. My hair stands on end when I watch racing and adventure sports. Bike stunts appeal to me like no other. And yet, I get jittery when I’m riding pillion with someone who even changes lanes or takes a sharper than necessary turn.

(Have you heard this one? Anyone who drives slower than you is an idiot, and anyone who goes faster than you is a maniac. LOL)

How is it living each day as it comes without contemplating about the future? Be it soldiers of war, or a mere bus driver within the city – who knows what’s going to happen at the next instant?

For that matter, even a pedestrian in broad daylight isn’t completely safe. Haven’t we heard enough about drunk drivers injuring people coz they lost control? Sad but true. Which is why I always tell mum whenever she worries about me working late or staying out late at night – things can go horribly wrong even during the day, so let destiny take its course and live our life fearlessly. What’s bound to happen will happen. Nothing can change or stop that. Why handicap yourself by imposing restrictions when you can make the most of your days alive?

I have heard umpteen instances where people who do all types of crazy stuff lead happy and healthy lives, and those who go the extra mile to take care of what they eat, how much they sleep, what they do and don’t do end up with heart attacks and other diseases that prevent them from enjoying a normal life.

Thought for the day: Live life the way you want without bothering about tomorrow. Eat sweets - who knows tomorrow you might get diabetes. Watch movies, travel, visit temples and lounges – who knows if you end up blind or disabled for life tomorrow. Take up that hobby you’ve been postponing and deliberating over – who knows you might never get a chance to do it in the future. Talk to that person on your mind irrespective of whether you’ve met for the first or last time – who knows, either you or that individual may not be around anymore…

(Exception: The vices that get you addicted. Liquor, drugs, sex and the like. You need to draw a line there and be careful. Don’t let the heady stimulation wreck your common sense and logic.)

On that note, I remember a bizarre show on television – 1000 ways to die. Heard of it? It shows real-life clips of odd ways in which men, women and children die because they do not anticipate their or someone else’s actions to be fatal. It is telecast on Fox Crime channel I think, somewhere around 11 or 11.30 every night. You should watch it. The last few times I saw it, I was taken aback, aghast at how we go about our daily or unusual lives without realising that death’s lurking around the corner… A mindless prank, a diet plan, a well-planned date, an unplanned rendezvous, carelessness at work – whew! And you thought there were only a few set ways to die – heart attack, accident, illness or old age…

You recall they gave us essays to write in school – topics like is TV a boon or bane? I wonder what to pick. While stuff on channels like Discovery and TLC is educational and enlightening, there are also a host of shows that are entertaining but counter-productive. Reality TV, which I presume is only second to the BPO boom in terms of being revolutionary, poses a threat to safety and integrity. Look at Emotional Atyachar and Big Switch on Bindaas, Breaking the Magician’s code on AXN, etc.

The first two have me flabbergasted at how teenagers are getting lured into testing the love and loyalty of their “partners” and family. While it’s good for those that are escaping a life of sorrow and regret, it’s also detrimental to the concept of trust and openness. The magic show – well, while it’s astonishing and engaging, as a friend rightly pointed out, they’re killing the fun of watching a magic show in real life by disclosing all their tricks and revealing the stark simplicity in their awesome “haath ki safai”.

Movies like Bunty and Babli, Oye Lucky, etc show innovative ways to dupe and kill people. Harebrained idiots watching the show would only be glad to take a hint or two and enact the same in their real lives, either to pull a fast (and sometimes lethal) one on friends and strangers or to actually take revenge.

Hmm… Looks like I’ve done it again… Jaana tha China, pahuch gaye Japan…

Time to say bye.

Cya later, alligator!

- Princess

Hi.

Sorry been missing in action for the last one week. I was battling my own life which is posing more than my fair share of misfortunes. November and December have been extremely hard months for me in every way possible - work, health, relationships, future plans - you name it. It was all I could do to stay alive, let alone live peacefully. But I'm too sissy to kill myself, and so the suicidal thoughts that hovered on my mind remained unfulfilled.

Fortunately...

... Unfortunately.

Either way, I'm here.

Its admirable, isn't it, that the one who touts herself as God's favorite child should feel this way? I know someone who used to be very close to me believes that I'm fond of being miserable, I look out for opportunities to be sad. But given the circumstances, I did not have to try too hard.

I parted ways with my soul-mate over 7 weeks ago and haven't seen him since. He's left the void in me which Edward left in Bella... except that he wasn't as purrfect as Eddie! Hah... Wonder why it still pains when I think of him, or when I move about in places that we/he frequented. Wonder why I keep counting days since I've spoken to him (today is the 14th day) and why I hate and miss him simultaneously - a fact my friends find hard to understand. Surely I'm better off away from an individual who has only been abusing, hurting and misunderstanding me for the last 8+ months. Guess not... I don't know why I can't forget him, why I still mourn his absence... Apparently, his reason for kicking my a** was that I lead a merrier life without him to spoil things, but how far away from the truth could this statement be?? I don't know the metrics for so great a distance... God bless him, and I hope HE is having a roaring good time. I'll survive. Always have.

(And... no, my meeting and partying with friends, and discussing p***ses and v****as is not successfully deleting you from my heart even for a second... Nor am I doing this to seek sympathy from people known or unknown to me. In fact for this very reason, I shall disable comments on this post. If there's on thing I hate more than laziness, it's someone pitying me.)

As if this blow wasn't enough, I got the denial of admission letter from Kellogg. I know I was being over-optimistic when I thought I could be a part of this world-best institution, but I swear all my intuitions were prodding me in this direction. I was broken when I read the reject note. Lost all will... it didn't even matter that I still had a chance at MSU and NYU and probably even Texas Austin. I was crying every single day and this obviously affected my already poor health. Not a day has passed within the last 4 weeks when I haven't coughed or been ill. My resistance gave away back then and only my will power had me going to work and social dos sporting a wane smile as my heart crumbled every moment. My friends and family saw through my facade and they found it impossible that ANUJA could ever be this shattered and frustrated. I don't blame them; I myself never imagined I'd be so damned...

You can imagine my state. Plus I could not take off for a vacation as the boss insisted I be here to do things that were a far cry from my KRAs : read creating line-ups and recruiting recruiters. Some days were good, and some days were bad. And this task was complicated by my poor mental and physical health. I yelled at my parents, I shed bitter tears, I cursed God and I implored death. All to no avail.

My friends and family insist this phase too shall pass. They say the same things that I would normally say to any unhappy being. It doesn't work. My hope's dead and my faith lies slaughtered. I've stopped saying the Hanuman Chalisa and Ram Raksha that I religiously chanted daily as a "Hi God, how you doing, thanks for everything, keep up the good work" kinda gesture.

Smiling now seems an alien act to me, and I tend to treat everything as a favor. I break down at the slightest provocation and I have a constant head and eye and all-over-ache. My memory has gone for a toss as has my confidence and desire. Pardon me if you come back here and see the same post staring back at you. May not write in for sometime. Only wrote this time coz I did not want you to think I was dead and gone :-)

Still alive,

Anuja

The Divine Crossing

As much as I love talking about myself, people, relationships, movies, TV shows (and a host of other topics), I can't deny that a good blog, an interesting blog deals with a wider variety of subjects and themes. Of course, there are people who argue that one blog should have one single theme.

Whatever... I've written too much about love and heartbreak in the past 2 weeks, and I'm feeling guilty about not giving you guys more chow to chew on...

So, this time round, I'm gona write one of my favorite bhajans :-)

Yeah, you heard right. I love devotional songs, especially when my mum sings them melodiously and sincerely... And I sing them myself, too. Not as well, for sure, but certainly with dedication.

This one particular bhajan was originally sung by the adorable Anup Jalota. It's called "Jaana Tha Ganga Paar". It tells a story in the Ramayana, when Shri Ram, Seeta and Lakshman reach the Ganges and want to cross it with the assistance of the boatman Kevat.

Let me jot down the lyrics first, and you can always check out the tune online (unless you want to set your own rhythm.) It goes like this...

कभी कभी भगवान को भी भक्तो से काम पडे,
जाना था गंगा पार प्रभू केवट की नाव चदे,
जाना था गंगा पार प्रभू केवट की नाव चदे। (That's the chorus)

अवध छोड़ प्रभु वन को जायें,
सीया राम लखन गंगा तट आये,
केवट मन ही मन हर्शाये,
घर बैठे प्रभु दर्शन पाए,
हाथ जोड़ कर प्रभु के आगे केवट मगन खड़े,
जाना था गंगा पार प्रभू केवट की नाव चदे।
जाना था गंगा पार प्रभू केवट की नाव चदे।

प्रभु बोले तुम नाव चलाओ,
पार हमे केवट पहुचाओ,
केवट कहता सुनो हमारी चरण धुल की माया भारी,
मैं गरीब नैय्या मेरी नारी ना होई पडे,
जाना था गंगा पार प्रभू केवट की नाव चदे।
जाना था गंगा पार प्रभू केवट की नाव चदे।

केवट दौड़ के जल भर लाया,
चरण धोये चरणामृत पाया,
वेद ग्रंथ जिन के यश गाये केवट उनको नाव चढाये,
बरसे फूल गगन से ऐसे भक्त के भाग बड़े,
जाना था गंगा पार प्रभू केवट की नाव चदे।
जाना था गंगा पार प्रभू केवट की नाव चदे।

चली नाव गंगा की धारा,
सीया राम लखन को पार उतारा,
प्रभु देने लगे नाव उतराई केवट कहे नही रघुराई,
पार किया मैंने तुमको,
पार किया मैंने तुमको,
अब तू मोहे पार करे,
जाना था गंगा पार प्रभू केवट की नाव चदे।
जाना था गंगा पार प्रभू केवट की नाव चदे।

Lovely, eh? I get goose-bumps as I hear or sing the final line - the "ab tu mohe paar kare" one... You should listen to this once, I promise you won't regret it...

Shall tell you the story next time in case you not well-versed in Hindi or mythology :-)

Take care!
Princess

Wassup Doc?

Id Mubarak!

(And a very warm hug to my new followers... Thanks for the interest, buddies!)

Why can't the week begin on Tuesdays? I work full days 6 days a week, so one Sunday is hardly enough to offload all my stress, complete personal and pending chores and rejuvenate myself. Bother bother!

Hey, despite the swine flu fatalities, people seem to be calm and social again. The devi temples are bustling with people for Navratri, and folks have thrown caution to the winds. The first weekend after the outbreak was nothing short of phenomenal. Chalo accha hai, logon ke mann se darr hutt raha hai… But I hope the virus comes under control now. New stocks of Tamiflu have been known to reach the market, and hopefully the vaccine will be ready and available before the virus disappears by itself.

There have been some very disturbing news lately. One was the death of Andhra CM YSR Reddy. What was more disconcerting was the mass suicide that took place bcoz of Rajasekhar’s sudden demise. What a fanatic population the South has! Of course, I know Westerners also do the same when their idols pass away… Either way, I don’t approve of it. A person lives his/her life, and departs when his/her time is over. That is no reason for another individual to cut short his/her life. If God had wanted it that way, He would have made sure they died at the same time…

And I don’t just mean physically. There are also cases when someone near and dear dies, and another person finds it hard to go on without that person. I understand it’s not easy to start afresh and live life as if everything is normal, but one has to try. Just think about it this way – would the dead individual (who I presume loves and cares for you), want you to suffer and lead each day sorrowfully? Would he/she up there be happy to see you crying and upset? My guess is no… Yet one could also argue that the dead person would be glad to know that the living person still remembers and misses him/her. All a matter of perspective.

My neighbor (whose hubby expired a few months ago, told you about that) is an lively and enthusiastic lady. Not once have I seen her morose and miserable save for the first week after she entered widowhood. We admire her strength and practicality, and I so wish that we were all as gifted as her… Another person I know - Abba’s friend and a doc by profession – has made it amply clear that no one is supposed to cry at his funeral. He wants everybody to just meet up, have a few drinks, remember him with joy and love, and have a good time. That’s the way to be, man!!

(I am not sure I want my loved ones to move on immediately after I die… I don’t want them to weep all day either, but I would surely like it if they miss me in their happy and busy times… I’m being honest, and that’s good, right?!)

By the way, I finally caught Final Destination 4 yesterday. Saw it in 3D at E-square. Watta gross movie! I mean it's done fabulously, but the picturization and imagination of the creators sure gives me the creeps. How can people cook up something so ominous and foreboding? The movie shows bloody intestines and cracked eyeballs and what not... I haven't seen the first 3 parts, and I don't want to either... Why watch a film that only has a series of dirty deaths for 90 minutes straight? (That didn't affect my popcorn consumption though... Caramel popcorn could make me rise from the dead.)

Anyways, too much said about death and grief. Leme share some cheerful news about Sachin Tendulkar, Leander Paes and Kim Clijsters. Although I am not an avid sports fan, I was jubilant when I read about the stupendous achievements of this threesome. Little Master hit his 44th ODI century in the India-Sri Lanka match on Monday and Indians went wild hailing and praising him across FB, Twitter, in person and everywhere else. I mean seriously, people REALLY love him. The most amazing quote I’ve ever come across in my life, the biggest appreciation ever, is when Matthew Hayden said, "I HAVE SEEN GOD, HE BATS AT NO. 4 FOR INDIA"

Leander Paes is no less in tennis. His 10th Grand Slam win came with Czech partner Lukas Dlouhy, incidentally against another stalwart pair Mahesh Bhupathi and Mark Knowles. Way to go, man! And cheers to the woman… Supermom, as TOI aptly titled her... Kim Clijsters became the first woman since 1980 to win the Grand Slam singles title after childbirth. Hats off to these sportspersons and their tenacity!

TV shows are not far behind when it comes to testing strength. The persistence of a few women celebrities is being tested in the TV show Khatron Ke Khiladi (season 2). Akshay Kumar is the host again and the location remains the same as last time, South Africa. The tasks are weird – right from putting your head in the same pot as 4 octopuses to walking atop a racing truck on the highway. The contestants are not excellent, though, which disappoints both the viewer as well as Akki “Sir”.

The other show that will test couples is called Pati, Patni and Wo where the husband-wife will have to take care of a toddler. Drama queen Rakhi Sawant (who has the b*lls to call herself “Lady Amitabh Bacchan”) is part of the cast as is her Swayamvar-partner Elesh Parujanwala (no, they haven’t tied the knot yet, and I doubt if they ever shall).

As if that wasn’t distressing enough, there came the news about the stone-pelting at Rahul Gandhi. I am shocked by the teenage boys who are believed to have done this. What is to be gained by this immature behavior? Did the boys think they were imitating Amir Khan in Rang De Basanti when they planned to carry out this stupid act? I don’t know much about politics and politicians, but I sure am against any kind of violence. Be it the attacks by China or Pakistan on India, or this domestic terrorism. Aggression and bloodshed is not the solution, folks!! We aren’t born humans for nothing…

By the way, the awesomest news is that all of the candidates of my Wipro Academy got selected! My boss, manager, colleagues, students and the Wipro executive were all ecstatic and full of appreciation. This is a record, dudes and dudettes!! I'm super pleased... Touch wood!!

Have a good week :-)
(Lucky you if you gotta holiday for Eid...)

Love Luck Laughter,
Princess

Where do we go now...

Now and then when I see her face, She takes me away to that special place... And if I'd stare too long, I'd probably break down and cry...

Can't stop humming Sweet Child o Mine by Guns and Roses. Watta lovely song! And the beats... Stunning!! Especially when someone sings it to you... Wowwww, feels great :-)

I've been taking it easy, and loving it for the past month. It's been approx 25 days since I resigned from my full-time position, and it's not bad at all. I get to read, I get to laze about, I can swim, and I can hang out... Money's not everything in this world, buddies!!

(I'm not recommending all of you to leave your job!!)

But I'm surely recommending this - check out a few funky shows on MTV and Channel V. They're worth the time!

The programmes in question are Airtel MTV Connected which stars twins who display their kosmic connection. The judges are none other than Nikhil Chinappa and the now famous twin-pair Raghu and Rajiv of Roadies fame. One pair of the twins on the show are apna Naumi and his twin - Salman. Quite a fraternity... Some of them do real silly things, but it can be quite interesting at times. Check out on Saturday night at 7.

The other show is Channel V English Medium. Here they translate the lyrics of a song into English. Which means Mar Jaani from Billu (Barber) becomes I'm going to die, I swear I'm going to die :-D
Hilarioussssssss...

Simpoo's Super Hits with comments and Nach Le with Santa Banta, both on Channel V are also good timepass. Love the way Banta does the moon walk, and Santa shakes his booty!

Too much about TV... Time to tell you something more educational ;-) I realised I couldn't take Chamundi Hill in concentrated doses anymore so I started The Associate alongside. I actually hate reading two books simultaneously, but I just HAD to do it this time. I've however discovered a more useful application of Glucklich's tales. They can be read to kids as bedtime stories... Minus the moral and philosophical baloney...

Grisham's novel is about this brilliant law student Kyle McAvoy who is blackmailed to join a reputed firm and steal important secrets. The classical paradox of how doing exactly what you want to do can become so detestable coz someone else is holding the threads and you're a mere puppet... So far, so good...

Someone has aptly nicknamed me "Water Baby". It's my Day 8 of swimming, and I've already been moved to the 5 feet depth... What sure counts is that I'm 5 feet 7+ so my head stands above the water level. It's still difficult though, the breast-stroke (which I think should be renamed as the turtle/tortoise stroke). I've got this horrible cramp in my leg for the last 2 days, and my arms are aching like hell! But nothing can beat the fun of staying above the water and moving your body artfully... Feels sexy ;-)

What still remains a challenge is holding your breath underwater. I watched David Blaine on AXN the other day in a show titled Drowned Alive, and the dude held his breath underwater for a solid 7 and 1/2 minutes... Shucks... Some magician! (But hey, I can breathe while I swim now, so this doesn't worry me much!)

Women are SOOO typical. I mean even before they put their fingers into the shower, they squeal and shriek saying the water is chilly. They comment on other swimmers in their oh-so-passe manner "Agaaa baiii, she joined yesterday only naaaa, she swims so well, very light naaaa, and age also...." :-D

Scarcely is that done than they announce their difficulties time and again to anyone who can spare a moment. "When I was small na, I almost drowned, so I am verryyyyy scared of water u know..." and "I'm so fat na, it is very tough to float the body" ROFL...

They laugh at silliest jokes by the coach, and spend half their time in the pool looking at other people. Well... fine, suit yourself... But what annoys me now is that the coach doesn't get into the water himself to teach us. He stands and walks around as he guides us and points out our mistakes and strengths. Never seen a swimming instructor behave this way... Maybe it's coz its the ladies batch, so he doesn't feel comfy sharing the pool with so many oomph-laden dames ;-) (The caretaker has no such qualms, and he enters the water full force, bald head and funny trunk in tow...)

There are these 2 really sweet old ladies who just come and wade in the water. One's 70, the other's around 50. Cute grannies, really appreciative and friendly. I wish I'm like them when I get that age...

By the way, did you hear this? Singing sensation MJ aka Michael Jackson is no more. He suffered a cardiac arrest (could be due to a drug overdose by his uncertified doc who's missing). This is sucha loss... He was amazing man, Black and White, Dangerous, Thriller and other unforgettable tracks... Here's my tribute to him... May his soul rest in peace. There won't be another like him...

Time to run. Buzz you later lads and lasses!

Happy weekend!!
Anuja

Khatam Kahaani

Not just friendship, all entities – alive or non-living, concrete or abstract – exist for a purpose. This includes people. And gods that are born as humans. I read how Krishna died a few days ago, and it broke my heart. How Gandhari’s curse took effect and wiped out the Yadavas from the face of the earth. How not even God is spared by fate.

If you remember, Krishna was cursed that he would see his own clan kill each other as the Kurus did, and he would wander alone. How this came to happen was that Krishna’s son Samba was cursed by rishis (coz he and his friends played a prank on them) that he would bear an iron club that would destroy the Yadavs. Balarama tried to avert disaster by demolishing the tool, but destiny carries it off to the final site which the clan visits for a picnic. (You may have guessed that this locale was suggested by Krishna himself.)

Balarama takes the form of Ananta (the white serpent) and enters the sea, renouncing the earth. Helpless Krishna overcome by kismet participates in the carnage of his own sons and friends with the ill-fated weapon, and wanders the forest alone. When he lies down, ready to embrace death, a wandering hunter named Jara shoots his pretty toe with an arrow made of the same club fragment.

What an unbelievable yet concomitant sequence of incidents! How else would you explain this – Gopal, who was blessed by Durvasa muni that his entire body except the soles of his feet would be invulnerable to all artillery, was shot on the thumb of his foot?

(Hey, I read about a fabulous Krishna temple at Guruvayoor in Kerala; I want to see it. And ya, one must-visit temple is the marvelous Velankini mandir at Vellore. I visited it when I was on my college trip, remember?)

That’s how Krishna died. The greatest Baasuriwala (=flute-player) of all time. The one who became God thanks to his penance as a mortal bramhan. The very same Narayana who was promised numerous boons from Shiva, including one that said that if ever Shiva and Krishna battled, the latter would triumph.

The most enlightening bit of the story was when Arjuna helps transport the Yadava widows, elders and kids to another land as Dwarka was going to sink. (It will rise again when the Avtara decides to visit the earth once more.) Arjuna and his entourage were attacked by a group of bandits (Abhiras) and he failed to protect his entourage. The same Arjuna who fought and defeated so many eminent warriors single-handledly could not hold up the petty thugs. Why? Coz Krishna wasn’t there with him anymore...

Thus ends the Mausala Parva, and begins the Mahaprasthanika Parva where the Pandavas decide to relinquish the world too. (I don’t want to finish the book, I don’t want to finish the book!) The Panch Pandavas, Draupadi and a little brown dog set out towards the Himalayas to try and enter heaven in their mortal forms. Not an easy task! Dro drops out first coz she loved Arjuna more than the others, followed by Sahadeva who was proud of his intelligence. Then falls Nakula due to his conceit about his good looks, and then Arjuna because he was arrogant about his archery. Bheema, who loves his food and strength, is the next to go, and Yudi climbs into heaven alone with his unusual companion, who is actually Dharma deva, come to test him and his compassion and righteousness. (Abhi kitta test? Khudka beta hai na, bas na phir!)

After this is the Swargarohanika Parva, in which Yudi sees several people in the heavenly darbar (including Duryodhana) but his brothers and wife are nowhere to be seen. When he questions Indra about it, he is led into a horrid place that stinks and reeks of torture. This illusion is Yudi’s punishment for having lied once in his life (to kill Drona, remember I told you?)

I don’t know if I’ve told you this, but whether you go to heaven or hell depends on your karma. (You don’t have to be an Einstein to guess that!) But here’s something Einstein wouldn’t know. You first go to the place where there is the fruit of the fewer Karma. If you’ve sinned a lot, then you go to Paradise, reap the rewards and then shift to hell for continuous and never-ending torture. Conversely, if you’ve done a whole lot of good, and lesser paap, then you visit Hell for your ill-doing and then move to an eternity of swarga-waas. (Hence, all the Pandavas including Yudi went to hell first for a few minutes, and Dury stayed in swarga for the same time.)

The book finally bids adieu to me (and to you as well, coz I’ve shared so much of it here with you readers. Hope you enjoyed it!) The final chapter is called Phalasruti and I’m going to quote some lines part-verbatim and part-modified coz they’re so essential and touching...

As long as the earth lives, and the sun and moon light the sky; as long as there is even a spark of goodness in men’s hearts, the legend of the Mahabharata will be told in the world. It is a sacred epic – the tale of truth, and all those who read, listen or speak it will have their sins washed and heart made pure. They will come to the blessed realm of Mahavishnu and experience eternal bliss...

Shall be glad to see you there, people! Until then, enjoy your time on earth, and make sure you do more punya than blunders...

Love,
Anuja