If you don't get what you want, you suffer; if you get what you don't want, you suffer; even when you get exactly what you want, you still suffer because you can't hold on to it forever. Your mind is your predicament. It wants to be free of change. Free of pain, free of the obligations of life and death. But change is law and no amount of pretending will alter that reality.
Here’s to the crazy ones. The misfits. The rebels. The troublemakers. The round pegs in the square holes. The ones who see things differently. They’re not fond of rules. And they have no respect for the status quo. You can quote them, disagree with them, glorify or vilify them. About the only thing you can’t do is ignore them. Because they change things. They push the human race forward. And while some may see them as the crazy ones, we see genius. Because the people who are crazy enough to think they can change the world, are the ones who do.
"A sense of humor... is needed armor. Joy in one's heart and some laughter on one's lips is a sign that the person down deep has a pretty good grasp of life."
Listening is a
magnetic and strange thing, a creative force. The friends who listen to us are
the ones we move toward. When we are listened to, it creates us, makes us
unfold and expand.
Attitude is more important than the past, than education, than money, than circumstances, than what people do or say. It is more important than appearance, giftedness, or skill.
My early childhood memories of “her” were of wanting to
marry her once I grew up! She was orphaned at a tender age of
five and got married at a young age of twelve; bore five children
and said no more... She brought them up admirably well. She
taught herself as she sent her children to school and never let
them know, she knew any less. At the age when Ghoogat was
order of the day, she carried her self well in Sarees with sleeveless
blouses. She could carry chiffon and khaadi with equal grace. She
got similar high heels made to order for self and her son’s wife.
Pink and Magenta never looked better on anyone else, fuchsia
and mauve were the color names I heard only from her. Her
cooking was legendary, the secret of course which can never be
copied, I think, because a pinch of this and that can't be
calculated. She is my benchmark for LOVE. She took me for long
walks and asked me to hold her hand so that she does not get
lost...during these walks she managed to tell me same story in ten
different ways and still left me with the desire to hear it one more
time. We enjoyed 10paise worth of groundnut and precious
moments together.
She fought with her husband to travel two nights and one day
all alone and be by my bedside if ever I fell ill. She epitomized love
and everyone who came in touch with her instantly fell in love with
her with pleasure of reciprocation. She walked the talk. If ever
there was trouble I talked to her for I knew she'll sure understand.
She'd got lots of love and good counsel to give and I knew she'll
be on my side for as long as I live... She was my punching bag,
she was my sounding board, and she was my alter ego.
She fought tooth and nail with my father to let me wear my
hair short something unheard of in a conservative Surd family. In
an era when girls were seen as precious objects to be heavily
guarded and not let out of sight, she supported my decision to
wear Salwar-Kameez only to Gurudwara. We schemed together
against the family and society at the stage of life when I felt world
was pro-men, she smuggled goodies to my room when I went on
indefinite fast to get things done my way, we went together to
parks, cinemas, hotels and never let anyone know what we were
up to. We vacationed together. She agreed with me that God is
wherever we wish Him to be and visited religious places only with
my consent in my presence. She was my friend, my confidant, my
fellow conspirator, my partner in crime.
She preached making educated choices but never let the
voice of heart go unheard. She came all the way alone from
Mumbai to Jalandhar at the time I was in my college just to
surprise me. We painted our toe nails together and she dragged
me to beauty parlor for first time shaping of my eyebrows. She
took me around to show the city and told me to live life on my
terms. She is my definition for spirit of womanhood. She
essentially represented my childhood. I was a child whenever she
was around. I grew up at the age of twenty, the day she died. I
miss you Grand mom, wait for me, we have got lots to catch up
on...