30s and 40s

Watched ‘Turning 30’ and it reminded me of  the time I turned 30. I thought it was the end of my life. I had popped two babies, my career was kaput , I was plump and oh so fatigued!! 

 In the 20s , you taste independence - you get educated, get a job and really begin to have fun. There is excitement  in sussing out potential boyfriends and husbands . There is heartbreak , but one is young and easily distracted. The thrill of earning your own money is tremendous and there is the enthusiasm and bubbliness of youth- you really feel you can change the world. 

30s are possibly the toughest years for a woman.Trying to manage kids, career and the sweet Indian husband. Life goes topsy turvy. There is guilt - guilt if you leave the career and stay at home to take care of kids. Guilt if you don’t.. Ofcourse, there is happiness, and joy, and pride and pleasure. Watching your kids grow up is pure bliss. Tracking the husband’s career and watching him succeed also brings a smile to your face. But there is also remorse - that you worked so hard only to give it all up. That your life is not really your own. That you have lost yourself in the stress of everyday life. 

And then the 40s happen. 

And at 43, I can safely say - these are the best years of my life. My kids are fairly grown up and while the set of issues are different now -  raging hormones, academics and their futures, I am pretty proud that I have brought up secure, happy , good individuals. The physical demands on me are less - I don’t have to chase them to feed them, bathe them , watch over them constantly. 

And there is something about the hormones at 40. A little devil-may-care attitude that creeps in . I don’t really give a damn what another person thinks of my life journey - it is mine alone. I feel I have earned my place by working hard and gained enough experience to be able to face the world head-on. I am not so easily bullied by the sully shopkeeper  or in awe of anyone with money or power . I have confidence enough to demand what I desire. I am less bound by the conventionality of a corporate career  - and can follow my dreams.

I am not that young any more to be checked out by men, and that brings with it the freedom to be me. If someone hits on me, it does not creep me out any more - the tackiness of it is amusing. I enjoy the companionship of my female friends and my bonds with them are deeper than ever before. At this age, all of us share similar life experiences - including the dreaded mid-life crisis! I love my male friends coz we are not objects of desire for each other any more. 

There is an urgency - that this decade is the one in which I have physical energy and mental alertness and therefore I have to achieve a lot. So I want to work a lot - doing all the things I ever wanted to do and I want to travel a lot- go to South America, Alaska and hike , walk and camp!I want to run the marathon !

And maybe, one day, when I am patient and not so restless, I will write a script for ‘Turning 40’...and make a movie of it! Or maybe it will be ‘Turning 50’ , if I am lazy enough! 

Free??

As Independence Day draws closer, I have been thinking of personal freedom and what it really means. 

Are we humans ever really free? Like tigers , we are not solitary animals. We need other people for our needs - for sustenance and nourishment - physical, emotional and intellectual. The fact that we stay in groups in the society means that we follow certain rules of engagement. And we follow a set of demands and expectations. 

As kids we were ‘free’ - free from the pressures of earning a living and from the demands of maintaining relationships. For that, we followed rules set down by our parents. There were boundaries defined - what marks were expected in academics, what friends were acceptable to parents, what time you had to be home from college or a party and what kind of marriage you were expected to make. Within these boundaries, there was room for rebellion , adventure and fun.

I don’t know about others, but I was in a terrible rush to grow up. I wanted to work, to earn my own money and I wanted to get married. I perceived all these as tools of independence - I would marry the one I loved, I would set up my own home, I could party , I could pursue my dreams and do the work I wanted. 

The very things I thought would get me freedom seem to bind me stronger today.Marriage for one - It is just not about Praneet and me any longer. Together we bear far too many responsibilities and the happiness and welfare of so many people is dependent on us. The burden is scary.

The love for my children. I like to think I made the choice to give up my career to enjoy my kids, but what freedom of choice did I really have? I could not get myself to leave those tiny hands that would clutch me and that little bundle who tugged at my heart. Even today,there are times I want to get away from it all and be with myself for a while-but there is no way I can disappear. There is still the house to be run , there are still the kids to be taken care of! 

I am beginning to realise that the relationships that provide us with the most are also the most binding. And perhaps that is the nature of love. To give and to receive . To expect and to demand. To take for granted and be taken for granted. To sacrifice and expect sacrifices. To give up some freedom and to take some away. 

Maybe it is worth - to lose freedom to love , not just commitment or obligation, because the benefits that accrue make us richer - in every sense of the word. 

Fringes of Celebrity Hood

So Aryan Khan is all set to leave the school and join Seven Oaks in London. 

I don’t know how many teenage hearts in school are breaking because of this , but I do know how many adult hearts are breaking. After all, how long will it be before Suhana Khan follows suit and there will be no more sightings of SRK? SRK’s star may be falling elsewhere, but in the hearts of the class parents, he will be a superstar- always!

It has been fun living on the fringes of celebrity hood and my earliest memory of the Khan family is when we took Nishna to her first day at school. There was an excited murmur when Gauri Khan walked in with Aryan and the excitement on the faces of my class parents was palpable when we realised that the kiddo was in our section! Every mother had visions of Aryan being buddies with her child!

SRK added glitter to our lives -Sports Days, Annual Days and PTMs were full of excitement because SRK would be there. And when he ran the Parents race at the Sports Day, I don’t think any of us gave our husbands a second glance - you understood why KJo made SRK run in every movie -he runs like a dream!

In true Mumbai spirit, there is a huge divide between the townies and us poor suburbanites. Townie mothers  hem and haw if there is any event beyond Worli, coz that is another city and so far!!

One day Nishna arrived with a card from school. It was Aryan’s birthday and was going to be celebrated at his Bandra home - on a weekday! I called on the number on the card and had a nice brief conversation with Gauri Khan. It went like this :

Me: Hi Gauri, Nishna will be there for the party.

GK: Thanks, you can drop her at 4.30 and fetch her at 7.30.

Me: Great. Is it ok if my maid accompanies her?

GK: Ofcourse, that is fine.

So that was that. 

And the fun had only just begun. Over the next few days, I received a barrage of calls from other mothers. Was I going for the party? How could I let my child go alone? They could not let their child go alone - he/she would not eat/ was too young to be left alone/the maid was on holiday! And on and on went the conversations! 

Then I guess they called Gauri  and the conversation ( I am guessing) was pretty much the same as mine. Very politely, they would have been told that their presence was not welcome and maids could come!

Anyway, to cut the long story short, the kids went alone/with maids to the party and there was a 100% class participation. Meanwhile a large bunch of mothers sipped coffee at Bandstand till the party was over!

There have been many subtle fights among parents who wanted Aryan to be best friends with their sons. Complaining about other kids and leaving Aryan out of the complaints, letting Aryan walk away with the medal when their own son had won the race, keeping other kids in the dark about sleepovers and parties and currying favour with GK has all been part of the class character!

As a girl’s Mom I feel shortchanged at this time. Aryan’s departure means that the girls’ mothers do not get to indulge in all this fun. It would have been great to see who Aryan crushed on , which girls vied for his attention, how we mothers would have egged on our daughters and which one of us girls’ mothers would have tried to be BFFs with GK! Ah! what an opportunity lost!

What's in a name?

‘Are you Preeti Bakshi?’ , asked the caller when I picked up my mobile phone. And I hung up the call feeling terribly happy! 

Preeti Bakshi does it for me. It brings a smile to my face and evokes a different era. It makes me nostalgic.

I love being Preeti Singh and can’t imagine any other surname that would have sounded as sweet to me. I was in awe of my professor Preeti Singh in college - she was super smart, witty and intelligent. And I was thrilled when I became PS. 

Preeti Singh defines who I am today,including being a wife and a mother . I am an older person, more aware of my social environment and more empathetic to people .  A multi-tasker who attempts to cram in all she can to make the most of the 24 hours- all this when I have time left over from kids‘ schedules.It reflects my social standing and my inextricable ties to people that depend on me.  I am more ambitious today - and I dream big for my kids and my husband. I no longer see life in black and white, but view it as many shades of grey. I am more forgiving and even if situations gall me, I have learnt to shut up and say nothing. I have learnt patience and tolerance. I am more aware of my limitations and have a fair sense of what I can do and what I can achieve. 

Ofcourse, being Preeti Singh has many other benefits too...I can get drunk, and I know that Praneet will get me home safe. I have a huge bunch of friends from  various stages of my life. I continue to have many male friends and they are not my ‘boy friends’ - their wives have a separate equation with me and I have double the friends!   I can take a sabbatical from work and enjoy life and work at my pace!

But Preeti Bakshi speaks to me of simpler times. When my time and my decisions depended only on me. When I was not responsible for most relationships and my parents looked out for me incase I was in trouble. The biggest decisions I might have taken in a day were the clothes I had to wear. And the biggest stress would have been my Quanti grades. I did not have to plan my finances, I did not have to plan a holiday, I did not have to plan the day to entertain anyone. I was not answerable to anyone except my parents, who were liberal and strict in equal measure. So while I was not allowed to go for dates, sleepovers or parties, it was perfectly ok if I had a crush and wanted to share that with my parents. I think that was the only time I was ME..and had to make no excuses for it! And I was loved unconditionally for just being me. 

But perhaps, the transition from Preeti Bakshi to Preeti Singh is the normal transition all of us make from our younger days to older ones. And while we are comfortable and secure in our present and would not have it any other way, there will always be a yearning and nostalgia for times gone by. 

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!!