Love to See You Cry

The other day, I got a forwarded message on WhatsApp. I had a good laugh going through this image. I do not know about the authenticity of this news but Google came up with a few links related to this crash course on crying. You can check too (This New Crash Course will Now Teach Brides How to Cry on Their 'Vidaai') and thank me later for a ROFL moment!

While I am marveling at the entrepreneurship skills of that lady who came up with such an innovative course, I am recollecting the events during my 'Vidaai'. Yours truly got married in the year 2015. Let me tell you about the years before my marriage. I started staying on my own since I was twenty-two. The first time when I left my sweet home to go to the humble college hostel, I cried my heart out. Being the only child of my parents, I was a pampered and overprotected kid. Staying on my own was a liberating yet frightening thought. My parents were unhappy too. How was their kid going to survive on the hostel mess food? I still remember my mother requesting the hostel warden to keep an eye on me as I was going to stay away from home for the first time. In many ways, I guess that was my real Vidaai, back in August 2009.

November 26, 2015. In the midst of various rituals and hordes of relatives, I was being ushered into a decorated car. As a newlywed bride leaving her home, I was expected to shed tears. My father was busy ensuring that the ceremony went off smoothly and was nowhere in sight. I could see my mother's moist eyes. And I could feel a dozen pairs of eyes searching my face for a tinge of sadness. Well, I have never been great at displaying my emotions in front of others. After six years of staying on my own, this moment felt like one of those innumerable times when my parents saw me off at the airport or the railway station. Only this time, there were too many faces waving goodbyes and I was decked in a bridal wear. I was sad because my mother became sad at that moment. "I will see you tomorrow during the wedding reception," I whispered to her with dry eyes. She nodded.

While that intimate moment was between a mother and her daughter, it got scrutinized by many.

"I heard that you didn't cry during the Vidaai? It seems that you are so happy to get away from your parents," I was being judged by a neighborhood aunt during one of my visits to my parents.

"I cried a lot during my first Vidaai in 2009, had no more tears left for this one," I winked, trying not to laugh at her expression.

P.S.: This post would be incomplete without listening to Enrique's song Love to See You Cry. I am imagining my neighborhood aunt singing the first few lines of this song at someone else's Vidaai!

Protective Mothers or Rape Deniers?

I came across an interesting article in The New York Times last month about a group of mothers defending their sons who had been accused of sexual assaults at college campuses. In the U.S., the guidelines on campus sexual assaults had been pretty stringent so far. However, these guidelines have been blamed to presume the accused students as guilty, who are usually suspended or expelled from the college campuses for a certain amount of time. Needless to say, most of the accused are men.
These mothers are on a mission to save their sons who, they believe, were “wrongly accused.” As protective mothers, they had compelled the college authorities to relook into their sons’ charges. Some of them consider themselves as feminists and hold opinions that how girls today have misconstrued the definition of sexual assault.
In our own backyard, let us recall the infamous Delhi gang rape in 2012. Malti Devi, the mother of one of the convicts Akshay Thakur, desperately pleaded her son’s innocence in f…

When I Met Harry

Harry came to my life when I was in the eighth standard. A bespectacled young boy with ruffled jet black hair, green eyes, and a scar on his forehead; a boy to fall in love with. Don't blame me as I was a teenager who wanted a spell of magic in her life and to run away to the Hogwarts. I hated being a muggle and aspired to become another Hermione Granger. I imagined myself boarding the Hogwarts Express and reaching Hogsmeade, going to that magical school, and learning to wave my wand. I had once written a secret letter to Harry on Valentine's day and later decided to keep it safe in my diary. When I watched 'Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone' for the first time, I lost my mind (and heart!) over that young and extremely cute Daniel Radcliffe. I remember keeping newspaper cuttings of anything and everything related to him. I still have them, safely secured in my old trunk. Well, that infatuation lasted for a couple of years till I graduated from college. And…

The Unfamiliarity

Through out my life, I have always been on move; never sticking to a place for long and trying to adjust to new surroundings. So when I needed to move to Irving, Texas in early 2016, I just packed my bags without any thoughts. After all, I had lived across six states in India while surviving through different schools, colleges, and jobs. "It’s no big deal," I said to myself.
I was wrong. The moment I came out of the airport, it took me a while to realize that the cars on the road were driving on the right side. Back in my country, we drive on the left side of the road! Right there, I froze. It was definitely not love at the first sight.
Whenever I start residing at a new place, I try to look out for some elements in my surrounding that were common at the places I lived before. Funny as it might sound but it brought me some comfort on staring at a tall, rusty, dimly lit streetlight standing next to the apartment that I called ‘home’ for the next one year. That streetlight sweet…

Cupid Came & Went Away !

It is that time of the year again! Spring is knocking at the door - the warm sunshine feels great amid the slight chill in the air, a delicate scent of flowers lingers in the early morning breeze, and even my neglected garden tries to look good without any help. And I almost forgot that it is the season of love too; through branded merchandise, and corny posts shared on social media.

Valentine's day has a long history. I particularly enjoyed reading through Devdutt Pattanaik's Return of the Love-Godabout the origins of the day and similar celebrations across different cultures. I also unsuccessfully tried to overlook any news covering vandalism caused by certain groups who, every year, make their presence felt on this day by harassing hapless couples. Well, it is hard to ignore the other side of the coin!
While I absolutely hate the commercialization of emotions (and that does not restrict to Valentine's day only), I genuinely feel sorry for those couples who sneaked out …

A Jar Full of Gratitude

Last year was pretty long for me, longer than usual. Though I accept change in my life as a good sign, too many changes usually put me off the track. I was whining, sulking, complaining, and crying; making myself and others around me miserable. And yes, I tried to keep a distance from my friends and family to hibernate in solitude (and think myself as Queen Elsa from Frozen!). Everyone around me was worried about my sanity and I was doing nothing to get a grip on my life.
For a long time, I assumed happiness to be an ever elusive charm; a state of mind that can be attained after eating tons of chocolates and ice-cream. However, that state of mind was short-lived. As soon as the tub of ice-cream was empty, happiness evaporated and I was back to my whining mode. Of course I am not talking about the perils of being pseudo happy: the jiggling layers of fat on my belly that I accumulated to achieve the short-termed elusive state of mind!
During one such marathon chocolate-eating sessions,…

The Peace Amidst Chaos

In my mind, there is always a cobweb of thoughts running in a loop: worries about my parents' health, anxiety over the work deadlines, fear about my future; the thoughts go on and on. So, when I decided to take my parents on a short trip to Banaras, I was anxious over charting out the travel plan and executing it to perfection. My parents, on the other hand, were initially reluctant and later very excited to go to the holy city for the umpteenth time. But the bone of contention between us was the travel plan itself. While I was stressing on early reservation and booking for the trains and hotel, they were thrilled over traveling by a bus overnight and staying at a place with bare minimum facilities. No prizes for guessing that they are more adventurous than me. Needless to say, I could manage to book the train tickets only.
Banaras has a charm that never fades away. Though I have visited the city a couple of times, I still look forward to roam across those narrow by-lanes and rev…

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