Sex 'Awareness'

‘Is it true that Siddharth Malhotra is Karan Johar’s lover’, asked my 10 year old nephew. 

I kept a straight face and said,‘That’s what I have heard too.’ 

‘But Maasi, who is the woman in the relationship?’ , he continued. 

And my mind went Hmmmmm. That the 10 year old is aware of gays was not news to me, but that he knew there were male-female roles in these relationships was something I found hard to process at that moment!

Listen into any conversation that Moms with kids in the age-group of 9-14 have with each other, and sex figures predominantly in it. What is it that our kids know? What should they be aware of? What is the school teaching them? Where are they picking up information from? And is so much information really required for them?

This much is true - at young ages they are more aware of many things we had never heard of. I first heard the F word when I was in the 7th grade and also became aware of gays and lesbians when I went to boarding school at that age. I was mortified because I thought I might be pregnant - I had heard that if any part of a boy/man’s body (except your dad or brother ) touches you, it invited pregnancy. I had held and cuddled my infant cousin and spent that month in stress - till I mustered up the courage to tell my mother. (I don’t know how she did not crack up with laughter at the time)!

There were no sex education classes in school .The biology chapter on Reproduction had the teacher staring blankly into another world as she droned on - and the class tittered and giggled in embarrassment! Mensuration in Maths also became an X- rated word because of menstruation in Biology.

So yes, our kids are more ‘aware’. Schools have sex awareness classes and many children also go for such classes with counsellors out of school. There is tons of information available on the internet, even if you have Net Nanny and such installed. Bollywood is more blatant about sex and most U rated movies have lewd, suggestive jokes. Kids also pick up information from the seniors they interact with , from older cousins and from the peer group. Young Adult literature is full of teen sex. 

Should they know all these things?

 Why not? As parents, we are always stressed about pedophiles and people waiting to get their hands on our young ones. These people can be found anywhere - in relatives within families, in household staff, among friends, in tuition teachers, coaches, guards and police officers...any where. So it is good for kids to be spoken to, and for them to be aware of good touch-bad touch and intuition when things don’t seem right. 

And who should give them information? 

Personally, I believe parents are the most capable ones to deliver this gyaan to their children. It requires that we swallow our inhibition and talk freely to them coz frankly we have lots more opportunity to ‘talk’. At their bed-time, on the dinner table, after a movie, during a holiday...

I spend loads of time with kids of different ages and quite frankly, our children are not any better off than we were. Their knowledge is incomplete.

They need information - and they will look for it elsewhere if we don’t help them with it. Their stressors are the same - like us (at that age) they are also grappling with peer pressure,  are dealing with their changing bodies and emotions, are confused with hormonal activity and are terribly insecure about anything going wrong. 

Ofcourse I don’t shut up and speak to my kids constantly about the birds and the bees. And yet, I am not sure if I am being able to help them. All I know is that I want them to make the right choices as they are growing up, to be aware of the consequences of their actions and to never do stuff they will regret for the rest of their lives.

And this is fun for me too...I am constantly amused by stuff kids are aware of and their new fangled lingo.I am learning new words that I choke on... dry humping and lip virginity ...and I wonder what new question tomorrow will bring! 

Emperor of All Maladies

‘My  tumour is malignant’, texted Rano to me , on that fateful day of 28th April,2012, and my brain went in a shut down mode. I knew many cases of cancer around me, but the self-indulgent me never ever thought this disease would hit so close home. My baby sister? The one I have always fiercely protected - and bullied?

Today, Rano is done with her 16th and last chemotherapy session, and there is a sigh of relief from all of us. The journey to full recovery is not yet over - another 8 months of treatment, but the scourge of chemos is done. 

With the worst behind us, I am permitting myself to open this door a little. A montage of Rano in the initial days -  her incredible fear and the tears that would never stop. Her caressing the pictures of her kids and trying to smile and being brave when they returned from school. Her stress when we met  lots of doctors to find the one she would be comfortable with. Her horror when we first went to Tata Memorial and saw so many cancer patients. And her faith that Dr Badwe would be the one for her. 

And it did not help that none of us knew how to react. Manish, the ever cheerful, crazy Jiju of mine lost his smile overnight. My mother, who can make the world cry broke down when we went to Tata Memorial Hospital. I was horrified to see Mama so forlorn - even through the worst that life doled out, my mother has had her chin up. My Dad was shaken in Nigeria and so alone with his pain coz Mom flew in to be with Rano; he would never stop crying. I remember late night conversations between Paras and me trying to make sense of the madness - both of us were cheerful and happy in front of everyone else. And the calm Praneet, who tried to be there for most of the chemos and brought peace to the hysteria with his gentleness. 

I don’t know how my incredible sister has pulled through this. Through her two surgeries, through the horror of seeing herself change in the mirror as the chemos piled on the weight and took away her hair and through so much sickness that she could not get out of bed for days.

But I think she did it because she is truly God’s Chosen One. Her blessings are so many. Her cancer got detected just when her cells kicked into a hyperactive mode. Dr Badwe heads up the immense Tata Memorial Hospital, and took to Rano as if she were his own. He operated upon her when he himself was down with a spinal injury, has ensured that she can walk into his office without an appointment, messages her with ‘Hakuna Matatas’ when she is down and is there to handle even her silliest queries. Likewise with her oncologist who is there with her support - night and day. The nurses in Tata Memorial love her and make sure she is comfortable during her chemos and come and chat with her all the time. 

She is blessed with incredible friends. Her friends call in from all over the world every single week and on chemo days pep her over bbms. Her friends in Mumbai would drop what they were doing and rush to her if they thought she sounded low. 

Random strangers shower blessings on Rano - by not making her wait , by letting her skip a line without her asking for it, by even giving her the fish and vegetables they have selected for themselves. 

Blessed with her househelp who has not taken a leave, put in long hours of work, not complained because the load on them is so much. 

But most importantly Rano is blessed to be the daughter of my parents. My parents put aside every need of theirs to nurture their daughter back to health. Mom has watched her like a hawk and if Rano’s counts remained good and she did not succumb to any infections, it is because of Mom. With her positivity Mom has made sure Rano had very few weepy days. She ensured that Rano wore beautiful clothes, wore make-up , watched happy movies, listened to songs and ate well at all times! Dad managed alone with his health issues in Nigeria, and came to India every month to be with his favourite child. 

Manish has been incredible in his support and love for Rano. His life turned upside down , but my Jiju loves Rano more than ever - and has denied her nothing. With his being around her, Paras gives Rano strength everyday. And Praneet has been her anchor - with his calm and cool head!

Her illness taught me valuable lessons - That we are blessed with incredible families that love us so much. That there is no point seeking affection and attention from people who don’t care about you. That this is your life - so Carpe Diem - live each day on your terms. And there is nothing stronger than your own mind, so train it well. 

I am waiting for my beautiful sister to heal completely. So we can begin to have all the fun we have been planning for these few months. So she can go back to work and be the cracko professional she is. So that my little nephews can hug and horse around with their mother again and their stories will not have ‘cancer’ as the chief protagonist in them again. So Nishna can tell her all her secrets again and she will become Udai’s Enemy No 1 once again. So Manish can rag her endlessly and her house will be full of laughter and happiness again! 

Following My Nose

Of all the senses that I use to connect with people, it is the olfactory that is the most significant for me. Which is why, Rani Mukherji , sniffing like a dog whenever her love interest was nearby in Aiyyaa , riled me because it was so disgusting and tackily done. 

When I was young and got sent to the hostel, I would try to hold on to the smell of my mother as she hugged and kissed me goodbye. I would rub my cheeks against hers and snuggle real close so I could carry her smell with me. I would not wash my face or take a bath in the hostel  - and it got me into a whole load of trouble with the prefects who once scrubbed me out with Surf. 

My children smell the most wonderful in the world. At night when I tuck them into bed, and in the morning when they wake up, I love to inhale deeply and smell their warmth. That smell is indescribable, something like a warm chocolate-vanilla cookie perhaps, but it soothes me, and tells me all is well in my world.

I like to smell the people I love without perfumes and deos. I like how they smell in the hollows of their necks and in the insides of their wrists . I inhale, inhale , inhale to remember. 

I am bothered when I don’t remember how someone I love/ loved smells. When I can’t find a smell association with that person. It is upsetting in a manner that I can’t describe. 

And  it does not matter to me if someone I like has a strong body odour - if I like/love the person, I am ok with the smell. Ofcourse, once in a while, I am tempted to gift a friend a deo or perfume to drive home the message, but really I am not so bothered.

 And by the same  yardstick, if I don’t like the person I cannot bear the way the person smells, or the perfume the person wears  -it nauseates me. And I try to not be physically anywhere close to the person, because the smell overwhelms me!

I associate certain fragrances with people I love. Anais Anais reminds me of the softness of my mother ( though she stopped using that fragrance years ago), Narcisco Rodriguez is my beautiful sister and Pears soap is always my lovely Nani. The yuck Simco hair fixer smelled just right on my grand-dad and I loved to smell it on him. 

Inhale  and follow my nose - it never fails me!! 

Life and Death

‘I will call you back in ten minutes,’ said Vijay , and Sharmila , my live-in help waited all night for her boyfriend’s call. A call that never came because Vijay fell off the window of his 6th floor apartment and died on the spot. 

And as I console Sharmila, I watch her helplessness. She was not engaged to Vijay , even though they had been together for more than three years. So there is no way she can go  with the body to his village. She has not even managed to go see him for the last time because her parents disapproved of the relationship and won’t let her say goodbye. She is broken, yet, she is going about her chores like an automaton. I want her to go , but I realise there is no one she can go to.Her grief is so raw, so real and so heart-wrenching because she is denied all that she wants to do at this moment. 

Sharmila was so excited because last year I had started a salary saving scheme for her and she was going next weekend with her big kitty to buy jewelry with Vijay. Since her parents disapproved of this relationship, she was determined to make her own assets till Vijay would marry her. And Vijay was studying to be a doctor as well as working to pay for a small apartment he would buy for the two of them. 

I know she is young and in time, this grief too shall pass, but I am just wondering how unnecessary some of our societal restrictions are. Just because the guy was not the same caste as Sharmila, her parents disapproved.She has no social ‘standing’ as a fiancee or wife  and therefore cannot go and see the face of the guy she loves - one last time. 

Why do we put such strictures anyways? Why have such a list of dos and don’ts? Sure, some of it is to protect our kids, but more and more I realise that these long lists are because of insecurities. We ‘possess’  because of insecurities, families fight over money and family over insecurities, people conform to societal standards because of fear of being ex-communicated and we learn to swallow our needs and desires for ‘society’, represented largely by our own family. 

If the only constant of life is death, and that is the only certainty and unpredictability too, then why do we fight, connive, bitch and make life miserable? Would it not be easier to simplify life, and just enjoy the moment. Does loving not mean enjoying people you love, letting them live life to their potential, and allowing them to be themselves?

I know, at the end of my life, I want to have no regrets. I want to live life in all its glory - Queen sized - the pain, the love, the successes , the failures, the happiness- the sheer joy of living. And I want to blame no one for anything in my life. That does not mean I want to bring pain to any of my loved ones - just that I want to have the freedom to be me. That’s the value system I want for my kids  - an ability to accept consequences for their actions and truly experience life! 

As Maya Angelou says  -Life loves the Liver of it! 

Books as Friends

Books are pretty much like friends. And some special books have  a meaning and purpose in my life. 

Some books like Cutting for Stone and The Sense of an Ending, are friends with whom  I want to spend as much time as I can. Each page , like each conversation is a delight. And I am suspended in that make believe world. As the pages near the end, I begin to feel the anxiety that this will end soon. That I am losing my grip on this special world and it will soon be over. I am not too sure how I want to end it - drag each page and let it fill my senses, or chase the pages fast so I know how the book ends. And when I finish the book, I hold it in my hands and mull over it. I go back to pages that enamoured me and re-read them again.I re-imagine the scenarios in my mind and wonder how else it could have turned out. That is pretty much how it plays out with special friends. Much later, I think of the time we have spent together, re-live conversations and their deeper, hidden meanings and long for the next time we shall meet again.

Some like The World According to Garp and A Hundred Years of Solitude are like friendships I renew again and again. Every year, I pull out these two books and read them thoroughly. And each time, I find  new meaning in them and I spend time relishing each page. Much like those friends that I seldom meet, but each meeting reminds me why I love them so, and I learn something new about them again. 

How I Saved My Life is like a friend who turns up at the opportune moment to be an Angel in my life. And provides me with support that I desperately need at that time. Like the Angel friend, the book may seem shallow , but sift the wheat from the chaff - and the diamond sparkles!  And this book, (and my Angels) pop up uncannily, again and again !!

Some friends are like Fifty Shades of Grey. I picked up the book with great excitement, because it was on the best seller list. And then did not want the book in my house lest my kids picked it up out of curiosity. My ‘Grey’ friends are the ones I thought were mine, but turned out to be something quite different - and were worthy only when they exited my life and took their negativity with them.

Then there are books like the one on Steve Jobs. They sit on my bookshelf, mildly attracting attention - much like friends who are non intrusive, and ones I don’t give the time of the day. I know, the books, like my friends,are interesting and will add value to my life, but it is not time for them for a bigger role in my life - yet. 

Accidental delights like India After Gandhi are like unexpected friends - I approached them with no expectations. And they have brought me immense joy and happiness - and I never want to let go of them. 

And some friendships are like Twice Born that offer no atonement and no closure. They are the source of constant anguish and pain , of a world and innocence lost, and one from which there is no escape. Yet, their beauty is unsurpassed and the experience incomparable. 

And ofcourse I have learnt - Never judge a book by its cover, and never judge a friend at all! 

How Worthy Am I?

AK Hangal, the veteran actor died at 98 in Mumbai yesterday. A ripe old age and a life well led I suppose. But the news reports in the papers today were dismal and angered me terribly.

So what if Bollywood bigwigs did not make it to the funeral. How does that, in any manner, reflect the worth of the man? Would he have been worthier if AB, SRK, AK and all the glam dolls attended the funeral dressed in white, looking suitably glamourous and sad for the press?

I don’t get it. AK Hangal clearly had a family - I am sure he was well loved. He must have had a bunch of friends who are middle class anonymous like us. He must have had well-wishers who are not news-worthy. All these people must have been there - around him in life and in death.

What does truly define the worth of a human being? For me, it is love of my family - my parents, my husband, my siblings and my kids. It is the love of my extended family that cares deeply about me. It is the affection of my friends who are there for me at anytime. It is my well-wishers who have supported me at work and elsewhere. 

Like most of us ( I am certain), I spent a large part of my energy trying to be worthy in the eyes of people whose approval  I craved - it might have been the IT gang in my schools, or the arrogant girl who everyone wanted to be friends with in college. It was the teacher who  did not know my existence in MBA coz I was so poor in the subject. It was the hot guy I wanted to date or the boss who hated me and made my life miserable. The ‘worthiness‘ may have been reflected in the kind of clothes I wore, the cars I was driven around in, the houses and assets we own and everything else that bespoke a certain social standing. 

It took me a number of years and many experiences to arrive at the status of FUCK YOU. And to stop being bothered by unworthy people. And for me to realise that I was really seeking something that I did not want or need.  That my parameters for self worth and self esteem were with me all the while that I had looked for them elsewhere. 

So today, if someone does not want to give me a job - its their loss, if someone does not want my friendship - its their loss and if someone does not value me - it is their loss.

And these are people I definitely do not want at my funeral. I am not famous and I will not merit the presence of media at my death. But I would consider my life well spent if all my loved ones are there on that day. I would like to die-not so old, so all my cherished ones will attend my memorial service. And it will be a memorial service to remember - In a bar, with lots of food, drinks and cheap Bollywood songs!! 

And I will raise a toast with the Almighty!! 

Girl Friends

I have been trying to analyse the movie ‘Cocktail’ and why it did not leave me with a happy feeling. And here is why...

How could the Diana Penty character betray her best friend? The guy shifting his emotions - I can understand, but a girl friend doing that to her best friend??That does not gel with me. 

Maybe coz in my small universe we don’t do that - my girlfriends and I. We share confidences - the kind men can never understand! From husbands to boyfriends, to bosses ,in-laws and kids, from sex to fantasies and dreams,  clothes to food ,diets to illnesses  - we discuss it all. My girl friends know my mood instinctively...as I know theirs - from their fb and bb updates, to the timing of the call or the need to go out for a coffee or drink!

We fight, we have misunderstandings and we may not meet for years. But we pick up conversation from where we left it and quickly update each other about everything. 

And we don’t eye each other’s husbands, boyfriends or significant others. That is taboo. We fight all we can, but would never dream of sharing those confidences with our partners or other male friends. And we don’t choose male friends over our female friends.

 I have close male pals , but my girl friends are what keep me ticking and going.I know they will never ever betray me and I can truly be myself with them. Yes, there is judging, bitching and  giving gyaan - but it done with the utter confidence that none of us will be betrayed. 

And I feel blessed - that I have atleast as many close girl pals as my fingers!! And I definitely don’t want a Diana Penty character in my life.