Counting my Blessings

Come Friday and every week, I feel a little smaller and humbler. And a little ashamed at my own ‘perceived ‘ problems and stresses. It is the day I go to the Tata Memorial Hospital and see suffering, pain, anxiety , hope, courage and the will to live despite all odds. 

So I think I have aches and pains?  I am confronted with those who go through chemotherapy and feel weak beyond belief and still find the strength to smile and walk to the nearest bus stop or train station. They are the ones who never break a queue and will gladly give up their seat when they see someone suffering more than them. 

So I think I am losing my hair? I see women losing their hair and wearing their baldness as the badge of a survivor . And see them don fancy head scarves and looking more beautiful than any woman with thick lush hair could ever look.

I think I am fat? I see people too skinny or overweight as they fight the cancer and its debilitating treatment. Weight is the last thing on their minds. 

I think I want more money and another holiday perhaps? There are those who borrow heavily from the bank and their friends in order to fight the cancer. Bearing the intense heat of chemotherapy, they lay on the floor or in the general ward , with an indifferent fan circulating the air. Many cannot afford the really expensive life saving injections or medicines and their treatment takes longer. 

I think I deserve better service coz i am educated or have pots of money? It does not matter - because the disease hits everyone equally and nothing reduces the suffering. 

I see stressed families doing all they can to help their loved ones fight the disease. How they put life on hold to ensure that their loved one is healthy once more. I see compassion in the eyes of doctors and attendants who empathise with what their patients are going through. 

And I feel so so small. What in life do I have to crib about? I have a great family, loving husband, gorgeous kids and a close bunch of friends I can rely on for anything. I have not lacked for much in this life. I am healthy. And my own issues seem so small ...and I feel so pathetic.

There is so much I learn from these weekly visits - about learning to love life as it comes, about being grateful for everything each day brings, of not planning too much for the future, about smiling through any problem and being positive about everything in life. 

Above all , I learn gratitude...and count all my blessings. 

Where THe Truth Lies

In politics, as in life, there are no true friends and no true enemies. And things can change in a second and while you might be King one day, you can be reduced to pauper (and lesser) the very next day. 

I have very less respect for politicians, even lesser for the second and third generation ones who live off the legacy of their fathers, grandfathers and grandmothers. Atleast the first time politician has walked the talk!

And here I have an axe to grind with my best friend’s dad PM Mohapatra. Till last week, Uncle was the ‘mentor’ of the Orissa CM , the socialite,scotch drinking Naveen Pattnaik and today, Uncle is holding out his own in Bhubaneswar - with his house surrounded by goondas and his life under threat from the local ruling BJD. His supposed ‘crime’? That he was organising a coup against Naveen Pattnaik. 

Uncle has been compared to Chanakya and for those of us who remember their history - Chanakya was the mentor to Chandragupta Maurya and helped him create the great Mauryan empire. 

When Chandragupta left the throne in favour of his son Bindusara, Chanakya stayed on in his capacity as the administrator. Bindusara also had a minister named Subandhu who did not like Chanakya or the power he wielded over the Mauryan Kings. 

Subandhu told Bindusara that Chanakya was responsible for murdering the Queen Mother.  Bindusara asked his nurses and they confirmed the story. Bindusara thought Chanakya was a traitor and was furious with him. Chanakya gave up everything and In the meantime, Bindusara came to know the true facts of his birth (and his mother’s death). 

The true fact was that the Queen Mother had been poisoned because Chanakya fed a little poison to Chandragupta at every meal to make him immune to it and the pregnant wife partook of his food. When Chanakya realised this, he helped save Bindusara. 

I would also compare Uncle to Chanakya. Because Uncle truly loves his State and has worked tirelessly to improve the quality of politics and lives of many people there. He mentored Naveen Pattnaik and never once seeked to be at the helm of things.  He preferred to advise and guide, rather than lead on his own. I know for a fact that neither Uncle nor any of his kids ever took advantage of his position - infact each of them has had to work doubly hard to prove his/her worth. Nobody in the family has garnered undue wealth or land and they live like the middle class family they are. 

But I also know this - Uncle loves Orissa, but he loves his grand-kids even more. Over the years, Uncle has felt the burden of the task because he wanted to spend more time with his grand-kids. The high points in his life are Anaya’s innocent babble and her birthday party. He loves to indulge his grand kids. 

So why would he ever stage a coup? It is a lie , but Uncle possibly deserves to be in this position today. And why not???

After all, why did he agree to mentor the idiot? And sacrifice days and nights for the fool who does not even know his state well? Uncle should have realised that a fool will seek sycophants who will always tell him how good he is, how intelligent he is and how capable he is. And there will also be other smart ones around him who will play up on his insecurities and murmur softly in his ears how his mentor wants to overthrow him.  So the joker who was holidaying in London, while Uncle was holding fort in Bhubaneswar flapped his wings and decided to suspend Uncle. 

I for one am extremely happy Naveen Pattnaik did this. Because there is hope....hope that BJD is paving the way for another party, because they have had a good run for decades and it is time for change. (It is time for change all over India ). Because Naveen Pattnaik truly has to grow up and realise what he has lost. 

And most of all, coz Uncle needs to take care of his health and spend time with his grand-kids. He has done a fabulous job and can take a well deserved bow for that. 

And politics is really not meant for good clean people. Let the politicians ruin the country!

Arranged to Marry

An arranged marriage - rather when you are ‘arranged’ to meet and decide to get married can be a whole load of fun and a pain in the ass too. 

From December of 1994 to June 4th 1995, when I finally set my eyes and heart on Praneet , I met some 40 prospective grooms... and I joke not.And it was not only my family, but my extended family, friends of my parents and uncles and aunts, the neighbours and my bosses at Ranbaxy who were all involved in the drama of finding a suitable match for Preeti Bakshi. 

 The learnings that stand upmost in my mind are 

1. Most hatte-katte serds have weird ‘pet’ names - So I have met a Happy, Sukhi, Lucky, Lovely, Babloo, Pappu , Sonu, Monu and u name it. ( Made me swear that my son  would have no such lovey name!) 

1. All matrimonial columns in India are lies. If you believe them, ALL Indian men should be handsome and good looking and earn 5-6 figure salaries. I am sure they are good looking - to their parents’ eyes, coz I sure as hell found them very unappetising. 

1. And even if the boy girl ratio in India is skewed in favour of boys, there are really very few eligible men out there. 

1. No matter how well educated I was, and how great a job I had, the key selling points were  that I was a good cook and home maker, was very fond of kids,  could read the Gurbani, had excellent family values and that it was upto the largesse of my prospective in-laws to let me work or not!! Ofcourse it helped that I was fairly OK looking and slim - but the same yardstick did not apply to the guy.

Oh! how these things used to gall me and every weekend would bring in a huge fight with my parents. On how they had to first meet the parents and the guy and only if he was suitable was I going to see him; On how I was not going to walk in with a tray of refreshments ; On how I was not going to go out on a walk with the guy if I rolled my eyes that I did not like him!!

I have had boys walk into my office to check me out - one was particularly dumb and on his way down in the elevator spoke excitedly about the impending honeymoon. Ofcourse, he had no idea that my Super Boss was in the lift , who promptly called me to his office and in his refined Bengali manner told me that this gentleman was unsuitable. 

Then there was an IRS officer, whose family refused to budge from the house till some commitment was made - I finally had to call my friends to come and take me out on an imaginary lunch!

Or the oily looking, dressed-in-all-white fellow, who hankered my Dad in his office to get me married to him. 

Looking back it sounds like so much fun, but week after week of meeting unappetizing men was very wearying. The thought of marrying any of these jokers was so horrifying that I was ready to join the order of the nuns! And it was equally tough on my parents, but I admire their tenacity and their instinct on who the right guy for me would be!

The day I was to meet Praneet, I cut my hair and caused immense heartburn to my parents. They had met Praneet’s parents and were very keen on this alliance. When they took off on me, I threatened that I would wear my glasses and jeans to meet the guy!! Pobre citas, they must have wanted to throttle me, but instead molly coddled me to dress up and so on! 

But Praneet was destined to be mine. Coz when I walked into the room and saw him, I knew he was what I wanted! 

And ofcourse, he claims his soft heart melted at my plight coz I was already 26 and I fell at his feet and begged him to marry me!! 

Ki farak painda hai!!