Anicca: Relationship

Showing posts with label Relationship. Show all posts

Monday, 18 July 2022

#MondayBlogs :: Fantastic Four #Friendships #Tribe

Debdatta Dasgupta July 18, 2022 1 Comments

Sometimes you meet a person and you just click—you’re comfortable with them, like you’ve known them your whole life, and you don’t have to pretend to be anyone or anything. - Unknown

It was a sunny December morning. We (I am my husband) took our daughter to her new school. She was about to start her offline school after 1.5 years, and I was worried.

VANI:

We drop off our daughter and then I saw her. Just like me, messy hair, cotton Kurti, no makeup and a worried face. I went to her and started talking. She told me her daughter also goes to the same class as my daughter. And we started talking.
I still remember the thing she told me the very first time we meet…’I am a chatterbox”. And I was like, me too. And the epic chatting marathon started. Vani, is a true friend and an amazing mother.

MANJEERA:

While going to school to drop off and pick up my daughter, I came across a lot of other parents and teachers, who are constantly talking about this girl Name Nyaomi and how naughty she is.
My reaction was why the hell, everybody is gossiping about a 4-year-old. A child’s job description is to be naughty, why do we even expect anything else (read #OpenLetter to Nyaomi).
I deliberately wanted to meet her mother, Manjeera and I did. My first impression was, that she is so educated yet so humble. We became friends, just like that. We talked a lot about how Nyaomi is, and I constantly told her, I was also terribly naughty. Like any other mother, she was worried sick as everyone is constantly judging a 4-year-old with the parameter of an adult.

KARISHMA:

Here comes the beauty queen. We were going to a marriage function and I saw her in my building lift. We talked for a bit as her son and my daughter are the same age, and they live in the same building. We decided to organize a play date for the kids.
The very next day, she brought me some sambar, wearing shorts. My reaction was…. you wear shorts… a gale lag ja (It’s a long story, read: You are a slut).

Her son, Bunny is the Magic Jappi of our group.

I really don’t remember how and when we all (Vani, Manjeera, Karishma & I) became friends.

It is so difficult to get like minded people and I got three of them.

We are a crazy bunch, shouting, yelling, sometimes crying also, and always in the mood for a party.

We love our Chole Kulcha, especially me and Vani and while Karishma is on diet, and cursing us.

We had multiple parties, dramas, children fighting, crying, making peace, ladies complaining about our husbands, gifts and so much more.

I can’t thank you guys are enough for being there for me, not judging me for my craziness.

You guys are the precious gems that I found when I was not even looking, and I was apprehensive to form any kind of bond. You guys showed me that I shouldn’t lose hope to make new friends because of some bad experiences.

And the best thing about us is that we are not like some mothers who are constantly making their kids compete with each other. We understand that every child has their own strength and weakness and as a group, we cherish and encourage that.

This is a very rare quality to be found in today’s world, especially when some parents asked me what is my daughter’s rank in the playgroup exam.

I would like to give a glimpse of our WhatsApp chat:

Vani:

To all the kids I thank you to make me enjoy the child within me
I so much need bunny’s hug, Nyaomi’s energy, And Advika’s unconditional love
If it was not for them, I don’t think I would have ever met anyone.
The three months will be the best for making me fall in love with this city
And to trust in friends again

Manjeera:
Yes true. All thanks to our ❤️ly piyu (that’s me)

Vani:
To Priyanka, I credit you for being the skeleton of this group. Manjeera is the blood to energise it. Karishma gives the neuro electric spark to add a vibe.
Don’t mind my biology.
Am probably the hormones which keep the group sane or insane.

Me:
Please keep the compliments flowing, especially about me.

Karishma:
I am late as usual (That is the thing, she didn’t reply)

Currently, we are in different parts of India, however, I know, I can call them anytime and pick up where we left off.

I can all them my friends for life.

I miss you guys like hell, I miss our parties, I miss the support you provided to me, and helped me in so many ways.

Every one of you has a unique and a genuine soul. I thank God for all of you and the time we spent together.

LOVE YOU GUYS.

As Helen Keller rightly said,
I would rather walk with a friend in the dark, than alone in the light.

Sunday, 14 June 2020

To "Meat" or "Not to Meat", the saga of a Bengali Brahmin

Lost in Translation June 14, 2020 41 Comments

So! That happened! Never in her life did Andy think she would be called an asshole for being a non-vegetarian but there he was, the guy she lovingly called "The Tamilian", saying she is as much of an asshole as him, coz she wants to cook meat at home.

Andy was in a daze...

Growing up in a Bong household (Bengali for our traditionalist readers), it never occurred to her to give a second thought while wolfing down a plate of yummy fish curry or gorging on the next chicken roll served at the roadside stall.

In her life, so far she has interacted with people from various cultures and tried out a variety of cuisines based on religious and cultural significance - some more palatable to her than the others. Some liked her type of food, some chose not to. But lately, she is coming across a bunch of these religious bigots who has been raising a finger at her food habits - a very dangerous thing to do to a fish loving strong headed Bong chick!

For as long as her memory serves, Andy has always had fish. In fact, that was her staple diet while growing up. It didn't matter that she grew up a Brahmin. In a Bong family, your caste is determined the football team you follow (her house was strongly divided between Brazil and Argentina my friends - a sight to behold during world cups) rather than the food you ate. Yes they were Brahmins! Yet they revelled in the next serving of mutton biriyani as much as their Muslim brethren of Park Circus.

She first encountered this caste based food bigotry when her roommate's Grandma chastised her for eating meat in spite of being a Brahmin, a dialogue she chose not to engage with out of respect for her old age.

In the inside though, Andy was in turmoil.

What does being a Brahmin meant exactly and why does she need to prove her Brahminism to these other group of Brahmins from the rest of India? It almost seemed like the majority of the remaining Brahmins didn't eat meat and expected her to apologize for indulging in such delicacies.

However, like most of the Bongs Andy was lazy as fuck to have joined a heated conversation justifying her eating habits. Instead she treated herself to the next serving of chicken rezala and moved on with her life.

Fast forward 10 years, as she tried to get back into the world of dating, she kept on bumping into these "vegetarian" sect. Contrary to the popular belief that a non-vegetarian like gay people would forcibly try and convert all the vegetarians, she was finding all the vegetarians acting exactly like homophobes - literally looking down upon her food habits and trying to make her give up fish and meat.

One of the men she met had the audacity to ask, being a meat eater how can she call herself a Brahmin which prompted her to thoroughly research the various kinds of Brahmins in India, including the references of having beef in the original vedas which were replaced by practising "Sattik" or "no meat philosophy" down the line.

Inspite of not believing in cast and creed, Andy found herself learning about how sections of the Saraswat and Kanyakubja Brahmins settled in Kashmir, Konkan regions, western parts of India and sections of Bengal, Assam and Odisha. They have always retained their non-vegetarian diet - something that baffles the rest of the Pancha-Gauda (to the north of the Vindhya Mountain range) or Pancha-Dravida (to the south of Vindhya Mountain range) Brahmins.

While she was busy educating this new horde of vegetarian dates, in walks the Tamilian, with his complicated soiree of long lost words that hardly gets used in day to day life. Looming over her like the next big disaster, he was completely opposite to the kind of guy she usually falls for - anal retentive and rigid as fuck, something she discovered months later. His kindness and stoic nature made her blind towards his rigidity and she started finding his anal habits such has fixing the lining of her shoe while she was crying loudly in his shoulders, cute.

However, months of engaging conversation and care couldn't save her from this conversation that Andy was having now.

She was not allowed to cook meat in the same house as him. As she accused him of being a rigid asshole and not believing in "live and let live" policy, the Tamilian surprised her by calling her an asshole for insisting on being herself and wanting to cook meat at home - the very thought of which he found offensive.

There it was! The red flags that she was trying to overlook when he said that he has only ever stayed with other Tam Brams now suddenly became traffic stop lights and halted her in this unrealistic dream journey. Months of conversation was nothing to this guy just because of her food habit and it broke her.

She started reflecting on her eating habit, and started wondering why it's always the vegetarians who think they are better than the non-vegetarians, just because they don't consume animal protein? Were these practices followed in the era of cavemen where survival was the key? As she tried to drown her sorrow in her tear-soaked pillow, Andy realized how one man's rigidity can be perceived as another man's religious bias. She won't make a deal with the devil and give up her fish and meat or freedom of expression for ANYONE.

And no more trying to date vegetarians! Those snooty bastards seem to be the worst of the lot, thought Andy next day as she happily chomped into her crab roll, choosing herself over any rules and regulations.

Tuesday, 5 May 2020

A Widower and a Sad Afternoon

Priyanka May 05, 2020 13 Comments

It was just another Wednesday afternoon during the lockdown. I was about to finish cooking and start cleaning the house. I was sweaty, irritated, and hungry when my husband decided to call me at the top of his voice. I responded to him with the normal frustration and he told me Irfan Khan has passed away. I was not expecting this. My first reaction was that this must be fake news. But to my utter disappointment, it was not, and I felt so gloomy for the rest of the day.

Later in the afternoon, I was watching one of his old interviews where someone asked him about his most difficult acting jobs and Irfan Khan mentioned two names: Life of Pi and In Treatment. I had never heard of “In Treatment” TV series and started watching it immediately (what better way to honor his memory other than watching what he considered one of his most difficult acting jobs).

In Treatment is an American HBO drama which was produced and developed by Rodrigo Garcia. It is about a psychotherapist, 50-something Paul Weston, his weekly sessions with patients, as well as those with his own therapist at the end of the week. The series debuted in January 28, 2008.

I have only watched the part in season 3 where Irfan khan played a 52-year-old widower Sunil, who was transported to New York from Calcutta following the death of his wife. His new life entailed him living with his son, daughter-in-law and their two young children.

Sunil is not only depressed by his wife’s death, but he is also deeply wounded by his son’s decision to marry an American woman and angry at what he sees as his daughter-in-law's insensitivity. He is extremely disappointed with his son’s American lifestyle and thought process where he chooses his personal happiness over family respect and pride by marrying an American woman.

I cannot express how much I got affected by this. Saying 'brilliant' would be an understatement.

Sunil’s (Irfan Khan) son Arun/Aaron and his wife guides him to see a psychologist since he is finding it difficult adjusting to his new life in America. Sunil refuses to take a bath or eat, and doesn’t maintain proper personal hygiene. Sunil also displayed deeply resentful behavior towards his daughter-in-law and probably has some unresolved sexual tension towards her.

As the series progresses, we learn more about Sunil, his lost love, a tragic suicide, and an unborn child. The series is portrayed as a mystery drama, where you can say for sure something is hidden but can’t exactly figure out what it is. The ending of the series is unpredictable and leaves you with a heartache.

Irfan Khan portrayed the character of Sunil with so much ease that it seems like the audience is witnessing a real counseling session. On the surface when the audiences see Irfan’s character, he comes across as depressed. However, as we get to know more about him, there is an undertone of anger (second stage of grief), sexual tension, and huge guilt building up over time.

Sunil is an extremely complex character. He was probably brought up by narcissistic parents who hammered a false sense of family pride before anything. For him, putting his family's pride before his happiness is a sign of a disciplined life. As such he resents his son for marrying someone he loves instead of the girl Sunil and his wife choose for him. In reality, he resents himself for not fighting for his own love; he didn’t even think of fighting and accepted the fact that marrying someone from his caste is the best thing to do. As a result, he was responsible for a death.

All these issues from his childhood and past combined with his recent loss of his wife and moving to America became an unbearable situation for him.

What will he do to resolve this? The story offers an answer in the end.

While watching, I saw Sunil, (not Irfan Khan) a middle-aged Bengali, his struggle, hopes, dreams, and an endless quest for a disciplined life. And that is the brilliance of Irfan Khan’s acting. You don’t see him; you see the character he is playing. That is the true nature of an Actor.

I will miss him, as will the film industry and people all over the world. I want to finish this with a dialogue from his movie ‘Life of Pie’:

"I suppose in the end, the whole of life becomes an act of letting go, but what always hurts the most is not taking a moment to say goodbye".

Friday, 4 October 2019

BDSM 2: A Guide to Breakup, Divorce, (fresh) Start and Memory

Lost in Translation October 04, 2019 0 Comments

Remember our four mighty ladies? Like many of us, these four women has been navigating some pretty interesting shit in their lives. In the first part of the story we learnt how D was navigating her divorce and how S was trying to start fresh. Let us now visit a day in the life of B and M, both dealing with relationship changes. These stories are yours and mine:
100% true and lack any form of fabrication but has 100% exaggeration.

Breakup: Let us call her B!

It's 3 am in the watch, B was hysterical! As a dry sob escaped her cracked lips, B looked at the motivational quote she has pasted on her wall "She believed she could, so she did!"

In her dismay B wondered, do the writers of these quotes come up with them when they are high or having a glass of old monk and musing about life? Or do they also go through the birthing pain like the rest of us - of rejections and breakups?

As B's mind wandered, her eyes found the remnants of her breakup on the mirrors attached to her closet, that was hiding her unwashed pile of laundry. The concealer could no longer mask the dark circles under her eyes as a result of sleepless nights of self-blame. Three failed attempts at relationships this year, B has officially hit ROCK BOTTOM!

"How could you let this happen again?" - B's disheveled reflection on the mirror screamed at her. Shit, shit shit!

She picked up the pillow and screamed into it...Arghhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!! Why are there punishments for breaking bones, but no punishment for breaking hearts?

Even though cardiologists earn a bomb by fixing heart as an organ, it seems the "imaginary" heart is the cheapest organ in a person's body. Is it because it's imaginary - like the promises that were made to her? The pain that B was experiencing felt pretty real though!

B reaches out to her whatsapp group of friends and furiously types "Guess who is eating an entire jar of Nutella in her torn over-sized marvel t shirt sans pants, displaying her hairy legs, AGAIN?"
Concern poured in from all the 4 corners of the world. "What's wrong babe?" "Do we need to beat up someone?"

Her best friend Sam saw the text and without any fanfare, video called her and said "You get the next 1 hour to cry, cuss or commemorate, no judgement! I am here to listen. But I do have an ask at the end of the hour."

In a trembling voice, B narrated how love has failed her this year -

Whether it's the suave VP crying like a kid for his ex-wife in the second date (I mean really? You are out on a date with someone and you cry on your date's shoulder about your ex?), or,
The Ferrari/Dick-car driver as she used to refer to him who refused to meet her when she said she was on her periods as he finds period, a normal bodily function, "dirty", or,
The guy from Matrimony with better nipples than hers 👀, who literally froze up because she asked him to inform her once he lands.

B went on and on with general disdain towards love and how she always choose the wrong men in life, but she could feel herself slowing down after sometime.

Sam could sense this as well and said "Now about that favor, you need to break up. Break up with this negative side of yours, the one that finds you at fault for all the breakups. Treat that side as the rock-star you dated in your college days, kick him out. Come on, I am gonna stay on the line - BREAKUP!"

Emboldened by Sam's encouraging words, B looked at herself in the mirror, took a deep breath and addressed her disheveled reflection, "If you only make me cry, why should I be with you? Am I dating an onion? That's it, I am breaking up with you. It's their fault, not mine. I will no longer take the blame for these breakups just because I met some fuckboys."

As her disheveled reflection watched her in surprise, B kept the Nutella jar back in the shelf, wished her friends goodnight and switched on her favorite piece by Imagine Dragons, "Bad Liar" to DATE sleep instead - finally at peace with her last breakup.

For fun read: B in BDSM refers to bondage, a restrictive action where one partner is tied down and not able to express their full range of emotions via their actions.

(past relationship) Memories: Let us call her M!

As M tried to balance the overflowing cup of coffee on her way back to the corner table, her mobile beeped with the telltale noise of notification. Settling down her coffee beside the latest John Green novel, M checked her phone and was surprised to see a Facebook notification of one of her ex's celebrating their second anniversary.

When did Andy get married? When did he tame his craziness and actually decided to anchor in the predictable shores of a traditional home life, something he claimed he never would? Memories flooded back... Andy was this curly haired tornado who on one hand could produce the softest tunes dedicated to her in his acoustic guitar and on the other hand would chase her on bike, stopping her on the middle of the road portraying the ideal angry young Indian male lover as shown in cheap Bollywood depictions!

M absentmindedly sipped into the coffee and accidentally burned her tongue - TOO HOT! She felt the familiar feeling of restlessness creeping inside her chest.

A tattered jeans-clad purple-haired girl was checking out M for some time in the half-empty coffee shop. As M started hyperventilating, the strange girl walked up to her and asked "Hey, are you alright?"

M found herself staring into the transparent blue eyes of this strange beautiful woman and heard herself blurting out "No, I just came to know my ex has been married for 2 years, even when he told me he doesn't believe in marriage when we were dating. All the men I date seems to have moved onto someone better and here I am burning my tongue in a lonely afternoon."

The girl crinkled the corner of her eyes and gave M a warm smile. "You know, I was in a similar situation a month back. To escape bumping into my ex and his very pregnant wife, I changed cities and took up a new job - but nothing was helping. Then I tried this method with one of my counselors and it helped me make peace with the situation, do you wanna give it a try?"

M was quite taken aback by the turn her afternoon has taken but decided, it can't get worse right? After all she was opening herself up to new experiences. She heard herself saying "Ok, what do I need to do?" Her purple haired companion replied "Share one memory - good, bad, crazy or weird, about your relationships and then write in a chit "I accept you as you are and forgive you. I forgive you for me, not you."

Intrigued by this exercise M started sharing some of the memories of her past relationships with this strange friend:

Sameer was the wild one, M can never forget the make out session that she had with Sameer in that rainy night, bang in the middle of the road inside the mini-cooper with steamed windows. You rarely have such toe-curling kisses at 2 am in the night and M was lucky to experience one.
Joy's possessive ass has been giving her hell in the coffee shop for talking to the male server for so long, but his eyes welled up in joy when the server kept a cake in front of him that read "I will miss you for the next 4 months", a goodbye gift from her.
M was being conscious about her weight but Dan picked her up and made her lean back and lie down on him, relaxing in the easy chair on the balcony. She felt a sense of calm and belonging as she leaned back and closed her eyes, tilting her head to the side to feel his beating heart.
Ash knew one of her deepest desires was to be picked up and getting kissed against the wall. As soon as M entered the room, Ash picked her up and passionately kissed her against the wall making her dream come true.
Andy knew she liked Beethoven's 5th symphony. Before leaving for the US, he gifted her a music box with those dancing figurines which played Beethoven's 5th symphony whenever M turned the keys.

All these memories made M smile. Sure there were some unpleasant endings but she was ready to move on. She hugged this beautiful stranger and started walking towards the corner building across the street, which she now calls home.

For fun read: M in BDSM means Masochism, a willingness or tendency to subject oneself to unpleasant or trying experiences.

*

Can some of you connect to some of these stories? If yes - do share similar snippets from your breakups or any stories from your past relationships that you have experienced. Would love to connect with you via your stories. Together let us weave a cloak of familiar stories for men and women who are unable to share theirs. On a cold and lonely night when they will be searching for heat, may our cloak of familiar stories give them the warmth they are looking for and help them realize:

You are not alone. We are the average (wo)man of this world and we stand tall and proud, even at 5.2.

Read BDSM Part 1

Wednesday, 11 September 2019

BDSM 1: A Guide to Breakup, Divorce, (fresh) Start and Memory

Lost in Translation September 11, 2019 92 Comments

Let me tell you a story. There were once 4 women - each going through certain phases in their lives. These stories covers 4 such days in their lives. Many of you may be able to relate to these everyday incidents having lived through them yourselves. These stories are yours and mine:

100% true and lack any form of fabrication but has 100% exaggeration.

Divorce: Let us call her D!

D woke up with a start! Did she fall asleep again during the afternoon? Shit shit shit! The deliverable was due an hour back, what if she gets fired? Oh who cares! It's not like anyone stayed up beside her last night and hugged her when she was weeping and sniffling like an infant. Let them! Man O' man, she badly needs a coffee. Will her hotel have something strong and maybe, oh just maybe some chocolate cookies - D thinks as she twists her messy hair in a worn out black rubber band. Beside her email alert, her laptop shows a blank word document. D suddenly feels the urge to dump all that she was feeling. From her mind to the paper - she badly needed to unload - doesn't matter if the words no longer made sense - heck her life no longer made sense. She frantically starts typing......

Can I read this without cringing 10 years from now? Think, think, think! 10 years from now when you wake up in your house filled with a dog, maybe lots of books, a money plant and a bespectacled guy (maybe, a big maybe!), with a farrowed look on your face, reminiscing about the good ol' days and dig this up - will you regret reading this blast from the past? But then I am just following Dr. Phil's advice. Writing about your PTSD relieves you from your pain apparently! (bleh!)

We have now reached the juicy part of the story, WHAT THE HECK IS SHE WRITING ABOUT?

Well, I will tell you why. Because I got suddenly lost my exclusivity! My husband of 5 years suddenly stumbled upon some hot tamale (s) ( I know, there were multiple apparently) and found this plain ol' rice pretty tasteless! Come to think of it, Rice is the staple diet of 100% of South Asians so I wonder why someone would throw away something that is so stable and essential. Does rice bore everyone? Will you like biriyani/pilaf every day? Given a choice, it seems everyone would like biriyani/pilaf over rice. But then are we just consumers of human emotions like we consume food?

Think D, think! Damn that deadline on Materials Management! Suddenly her phone beeps, "You ok? Do you want to meet for a cuppa?" D takes a deep breath and writes "Yes please, the usual place?" Thank god for small wins in life like running into a kind soul in office kitchen counter and finding a friend for life.

10 years - come on D, all this will seem like a dream in 10 years time, she thinks as she tries to stuff her overweight body into her jeans.

For fun read: D in BDSM refers to dominance, the crux of a BDSM relationship. It's all about erotic power exchange, not one person having power over another.

(fresh) Start: Let us call her S!

5-4-3-2-1 - S tried to get off from her bed. Her tired eyes protest against the effort. No! I don't need a fresh start! I want to curl up inside this stupid blanket and die! Her mind feebly tried to remind her of the great advice from Mel Robbins, LAUNCH YOURSELF LIKE A ROCKET!

Bloody hell! Who wants to get up at this god forsaken hour to go work out? Mel has someone to come back to - S is lonely and strives to be invisible. No, stop! S reminds herself - Remember! Start your day on a positive note. Shucks! She spoiled it again, didn't she - S thinks as she stumbles off from her bed and wearily makes her way to the boxing club.

S's muscles groan in protest as her trainer makes her run up and down the street. Huffing and puffing S thinks "Are all new starts this hard? Snakes can shed off their skin so easily but then caterpillars take ages to become beautiful butterflies." Her thoughts are interrupted with a bark from her trainer "What are you dreaming about, give me 20 push-ups". Ughh! She groans and starts her slow descent to pain. In a feeble attempt of motivation S tries the external validation route..."You will lose weight and look hotter to the guys in the gym!" But her brain was quick to jump in defense and reminds her "You are not even wearing your spectacles, can't even see if any guy is actually checking you out in the gym". Sighing S tells her screaming lungs "Oh! Just do it anyway!"

Come to think of it - hitting feels so good! Especially when S can land a punch on the tall guy in front of her. To all the naysayers in the world - she ain't done yet! S silently cheers for herself in her mind "Can you see???? I am still standing! None of you could destroy me fully. I am fire - I am a woman - I will reinvent myself every time you push me down..." S's string of thoughts breaks all of a sudden as she finds herself flat on her bottom with a look of pure horror in her face. Did she really slip in her own sweat while boxing in front of all these hyper-fueled muscular fit community of god bods? Man! Wish she could drown in her own sweat or shame! As her trainer extends his hand, S chuckles and pushes herself upright saying out loud, "I am still standing, ain't I".

"Man, a fresh start does feel good", S thinks as she continues with her boxing lesson.

For fun read: S in BDSM refers to Submission. It says, the true power lies with the submissive as he/she sets the actual boundaries in this exploration.

*

Can some of you connect to some of these stories? If yes - do share similar snippets from your divorce or any stories of fresh start that you have tried in your lives. Would love to connect with you via your stories. Together let us weave a cloak of familiar stories for men and women who are unable to share theirs. On a cold and lonely night when they will be searching for heat, may our cloak of familiar stories give them the warmth they are looking for and help them realize:

You are not alone. We are the average (wo)man of this world and we stand tall and proud, even at 5.2.

Wait for my next blog on how B and M dealt with a breakup and (old relationship) memories.

I am taking my blog to the next level with Blogchatter’s #MyFriendAlexa.

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