The Theories of Something

A long distance connection with a <1% chance of ever form of survival.

A voluntary life of struggle taken up with bludgeoning guilt overpowered by the idea that love conquers all.

An unlikely connect of minds and souls overlooking a connect of the physical being.

An attachment borne of necessity. A necessity to disregard loneliness that crept from deliberate neglect.

This year started on a promising note for me. Cinematically speaking. Art and inspiration from life wasn’t dead after all. Hollywood (but of course) bravely paraded real life dramas and stories, each brilliantly performed and executed, each expectedly leaving one to THINK once the credits rolled. I’m not sure if every member of the audience picked up on the underlying thread of conundrum that ran through the lives of the real people depicted on reel as well as the lives of the reel people who were under tremendous pressure to bring this to screen.

Here is what I picked up: Humanity, Humanness, Being human. Clichéd. Yes. This is an era of disconnect and judgment. An era of carelessness, selfishness and temporary greed. Everything must be acquired quickly, with zero pressure or effort and everything and everyone is effervescently dispensable. Everything and everyone must be ‘blissfully’ aware and accept this reality or “get over it already”. And all of this falls under a new fascist undermined category YOLO. Yep just like everything… apparently, this too is a magnanimously arrogant abbreviation.

The stories depicted in American Sniper, The Theory of Everything, Foxcatcher and The Imitation Game all bore semblance and yet recited individual stories. I could relate to the main characters but not walk in their shoes in real time. They involved the struggle and gamble of an Iraqi war veteran fighting inexplicable demons collated over 4 tours, the astounding survival and coping mechanism of Stephen Hawkings, a ‘different’ and mentally sidelined math genius coming to terms with who or what he really is and the ultimate battle of loneliness and acceptance of a wealthy man raised to feel like he didn’t belong anywhere. People may know slivers of THEIR story but the silver screen depicted the stories of the people who made THEM and struggled with them. Their families, friends, circumstances and members who came and went in a blink yet changed their lives for a spin. The movies packed in all their tears and agonies and moments of indecent weakness in 2-3hrs tops. But real life documents years and minutes and hours that feel like ‘space time’ on the reel. THAT is what I took away. To imagine walking in their shoes for more than what I saw. To imagine the depth of their feelings. To imagine their limitations and their attitude to life. To imagine and maybe practice any of it to my benefit.

It’s always easier to imagine than believe or experience. Apathy grows from lack of imagination or experience. Apathy has become the natural order of things. “So what. It happens to everyone. Forget it. Move on.” Almost mocking the argument that humans and their emotions aren’t switches. We are expected to switch on and switch off now more than ever. The end of connections and relationships is ‘convenient’. Disability (mental or physical) are rationales for abandonment. A stray person who has no clue of your foundations has the ability to shake it and relocate it in a matter of seconds. Social media is the common enemy and the boon – it reminds me of Skynet Systems in The Terminator (franchise) where robots and computers meant to fix the world ultimately become the arch enemy. Social media plays such a diabolical role. All the referenced movies didn’t have the ‘evils’ of social media or simply translated as – easy access to the EXIT signs from life. They stopped. Took a breath. Shed a tear or more. Listened. Confronted. Introspected. Smiled. Provided comfort and security. Measured friendship and love in one person. Moved forward. Helped build vs. destroy. Empathized. Worked for betterment and lived within each other’s realm than outside.

One of the strangest questions I was thrown after ‘The Theory of Everything’ screening was would I have forgiven Jane Wilde for her momentary lapse. The question was also sarcastically burdened on my morale compass because I was expected to NOT forgive her and if I did then how did I advocate cheating. I was no one to forgive or judge Jane Wilde-Hawking’s character or the real person. She wasn’t looking for thrill in the woods and her intent wasn’t one of abandonment of her husband, her family or even her duties toward Stephen. She was a tireless, vulnerable and struggling woman who had voluntarily and lovingly kept her commitment to Stephen but never anticipated the valleys that would draw her to absolute darkness. How could anyone anticipate so? She didn’t leave Stephen and her duties and commitment were unfaltering. She wasn’t complaining or bad mouthing her partner. She wasn’t taking to social media for sympathy votes or measuring her current market status despite the upheaval of her personal woes. She wasn’t neglecting her husband or family and throwing tantrums or attitude to showcase her martyrdom. She didn’t call on thrills or embarrass herself in alcohol or substances to use them as excuses for her ‘supposedly’ momentary lapse of common sense. There was no cruelty in Jane Wilde. There was no cruelty in Chris Kyle’s reaction to his ever suffering and agonized spouse. There was no apathy in Joan Clarke as she embraced mind over body with Alan Turing, accepting his homosexual self (this coming from that period and time when it was a punishable offense). There was no impatience in Dave Schultz when he left everything and eventually died despite struggling with an egotistical emotionally wavered brother and an equally fragile John DuPont.

I have had a considerably luxurious life when I look at them and imagine million others whose lives and chronicles haven’t made it to a book or screen. I think less now when Abeer doesn’t ‘measure up’ to my visual compass and instead open the view to ‘panorama’ to capture what I am missing from his expression of love and comfort. I aim to be calmer and less displaying of my emotions. Not everything needed to be in the open. I intend to find more of myself or rather regain what I have lost of my identity. I intend to be vocal about what matters to me and then let go if it refused to come within compromising radii of it. I intend a lot of things.

Most importantly, I intend not to forget these lessons and add more and more humbling equations to build this equation till my last breath.

I do

Such powerful words, I do.

It’s a declaration, a promise, a solemnity, a commitment, a secret, a decision, a communication, a signature, a word (or 2)… Just 2 fragile yet very powerful words change your life. For the best or for something new and beautiful to start and experience; at your own discretion and your own judgement.

I was blessed to attend 3 weddings in 2 months (would’ve been 5 if not for a folly). Usually a recluse from such events, I decided to stop avoiding them and go to celebrate my friends and their newfound love path. I attended my 1^st north Indian (UP) style wedding, my 1^st Goan AND Catholic ceremony and then a South Indian Shetty wedding. All were beautiful, very different and I was glad I made the trip to them all. First was an impromptu drop and must-visit to a UP style wedding. It was a dear friend’s sister’s nuptials. Very grand and in true north style spared no expense and glory in celebrating it. Well… at least someone was celebrating the girl child and her heart's desires. I wasn’t able to stay long but the friend ensured I didn’t miss a glimpse of the bride and her husband as they walked from the dressing room to the grand display that awaited them. Then came the Goan catholic wedding for a friend (no longer just so-n-so’s brother). We shared a special unlikely friendship and I decided to take the odd hour flights and do the dance and song solo. It was worth it except I missed my man a lot. The whole ceremony and celebration was traditional yet with a modern kick to it. I enjoyed every bit of it. The last 1 was another very dear friend whom I have managed to keep in touch with over 4yrs since I met him in Capoeira class. Ours was and remains and unlikely friendship that has an annual meeting or 2 (if he flies down) and we share all our updates over 1 meal. This time he dropped the bomb that he was getting married. A mirror image in life and thinking to my Abeer; this guy was extremely stand up and a thorough gentleman. I was happy for him and incidentally managed to make it to his wedding and reception.

The 1s I missed and really wished to have attended in person were my friends (1 former boss) Reny and Vanessa. The latter’s was a plan that went kaput and I am still seething with rage over the 1s responsible. Anyways… The common thread that tied all of these was unlike the general image of Indian weddings: loud and coerced. All my friends married their sweethearts of their choices (nothing arranged). All had traditional weddings keeping their communities and rituals in mind but nothing was over the top. If anything, they were grand in their celebration of the couple rather than the money spent on everything. I love that. Where the couple is and remains in focus for good reason. At the church, I expected a long sermon of extracts of the bible. What I witnessed was a priest who knew the couple as young babies and now grown graceful adults, who knew their inherent natures and who pointed this out aptly at the ceremony. This was refreshingly beautiful and I listened intently to how a tailor made ceremony for the duo was conducted. At the Shetty wedding, the ceremony lasted for but an hour and it was full of humor and smiles. The groom’s parents took a backseat while his older married sister and her husband aided the ceremony and ensured all went well. And even though I did not attend Reny and Vanessa’s weddings, from the pictures and the people I know I can closely imagine their nuptials and the what it must have meant to them and their families.

These restore my faith in the institution itself. I never shied away from it even though my parent’s didn't set an ideal example. But then again they did separate and find peace for themselves – a painful decision they made. There are marriages where a couple may live till death did them apart but as a relief – sad. My personal thoughts have been more to build a life with someone, make it complete, a home, maybe pets, maybe children. The pets and children are HUGE life churners and it’s something I would do only in partnership with my better half and not alone. Hence, the ‘maybes’. But I never lost hope in the institution of marriage. It’s but a ceremony to celebrate and solemnize your love. I think of it as very unique and individualistic. One is free to make a marriage of their own barred by society standards (unless you are a slave to societal standards).  The truth is on the surface everyone pretends to live by the ‘blind’ rules. If you peek inside there are secrets to families and wedded bliss that you weren't aware of.

This I cannot share with my cynical beau. He is convinced that the way to a good life is a bachelor’s life. Which is neither wrong nor right. But just like media and society flame stories of the evil mother-in-law vs. daughter-in-law, boss vs. reportees there are the equally gregarious gags and quips on the husband-wife relationship. Where the husband is the emotional fool who fell into a trap that expires at the end of his natural life. I laugh too. But I also find it ridiculous when a wife is the poster-child for ‘entrapment’. Any life decision is purely your own or with the 1s you love. If you suffer, you suffer together, if you’re happy… well the general outcome is happiness together. Even though my witty half periodically announces his allergy to this phase of life, I turn away for not wanting to be influenced by it. I am not a cynic in love and enjoy a comfortable hopeless romantic tag. Just last month I went about planning a 1yr anniversary like it was 25yrs together. I knew it was over the top but in mind it was what I wanted to share with Abeer and there was no rule defining what was too much or too less. I know that for the rest of my life I will celebrate love with grandeur and gratitude because it’s the 1 thing we take for granted in its presence and then pine for it in its absence. This worries some of my friends who think I will burn badly (irreparably) if things were to fall kaput. I think that if I am with a man whose lack of belief in the institution of marriage hasn't phased me then surely I am in love enough to have faith that what lies ahead will also be good. I really wonder how I would celebrate 25yrs of togetherness. Hmmm!

Recently Abeer and I ‘lived’ together for 2 months. It gave me a whole new perspective to living with him. We did stay like it was make shift for 2 mnths and there were days where admittedly I wanted to bash him up or I felt hurt badly. There were some serious ups and downs, yet most days made me realize that on a bigger scale he was the 1 for me and I pined for him to walk in through the main door and go to bed at night with me… and yes the furball Elsa. I loved it. I’m addicted to it and now I ‘pine for it’. Here’s congratulations to all my friends who found and celebrated their love with a ceremonial union, to those looking – it’s out there… and to my cynical oh-so-funny beau Abeer… I love you more each day and that puzzles me <3

Fusing my Religion

That's me in the corner; That's me in the spotlight; Losing my religion
Trying to keep up with you; And I don't know if I can do it
Oh no I've said too much; I haven't said enough! By R.E.M.

Monday evening I went for Lalbaugcha Raja’s darshan. Something I had skipped last year. I’m not steadfastly religious, do not believe in object worship, don’t believe in the encyclopedia of names for the ‘Gods’ and I certainly do not appreciate when how, whom and why I should worship or pay homage to, is predefined for me. When I do feel like it (divine calling as many say), I go for it and do it my way. My prayer lasts anywhere between a mere 1min to probably an hour – most of which I spend in a quiet uninterrupted corner just pondering. The setting could be the corner seat of the Mumbai local to the corner pillar of Ram Mandir near my house. I have cried or remained mum. I have sincerely prayed and sometimes just looked for penance for 1 of many wrongs I may have committed but not admitted to.

To many, my practices may seem futile or because I do it ‘for the heck of it’. ‘Ignore’ is my mantra. Something I subject even mum too. From a balanced spiritual lady, somewhere along the years, I lost her to endless pujas, artis, darshans, teerth yartras and some unreasonable, inexplicable practices – a little on the extreme side. Ok a lot extreme if you ask me but what works for her is her choice. Here no one lets you be. What they do and consider the ethical, traditional norm is THE norm for you. I enter a temple and I would get eyes for donning jeans, missing a dupatta, not looking deep in trance enough or a list of do-nots that I may’ve unintentionally adhered to.

Fortunately, mums taken the cue and let me be. Of course, I had to climb the staircase of guilt, jump through a fire hoop of the looks, crawl through a dark tunnel of a long lecture (the worst) and fly across obstacles of ‘corrective actions’. Like a video game. It took many an evening of doubts, discussions of life path (still can’t figure how that’s related), being called an atheist, questions on my beliefs and virtual guilt trips of trying to drag me down. We have reached a mutually accepted truce. She asks. I agree or decline. If I agree, I stay for the last bit where I can have some prasad and leave. I honor her wishes and she mine. My logic, which finally got to her, was I would never do something to disrespect what is important to her – and forcefully going for incessant number of pujas with no intent, counted as disrespect from me to her. Peace!

Prof. Wikipedia defines religion, as “an organized collection of beliefs, cultural systems, and world views that relate humanity to the supernatural, and to spirituality.” I’m fortunate that my family inculcated AND practice secularism. I lay emphasis on the ‘AND’ because we have many who feign belief and do not practice. My family does and I appreciate, love and bask under this fact and freedom. From my grandparents’ era, all married their love and sweethearts. There was never a question or interrogation of the caste, creed, sect or religion. There have been marital discords, disharmony, splits and reconciliations all on human grounds and errors. When mum found out about him, she asked about him and his family, what they did where they came from et al. Honestly, I assumed somewhere she would make a comment or ask me something as a part of all the changes she has gone through… you know religiously. She didn’t. Once even offering to drop me close to station so that I could meet Abeer sooner and not waste time as we were headed to Charni Rd. late evening. I appreciated her attempt to let me have the freedom to love and seek love as I pleased. A luxury in this country.

The 1^st question I always get asked is “Did your parents agree?” followed by “Will you convert?/ Tattoo cannot be accepted so how will you?...” some ridiculous not-so-crucial questions I do not appreciate. I mean where did “what does he do?/ where did you’ll meet?/ How’s it going?... etc” slip down the ladder of queries 1 asks friends about their beau. You don’t meet or go on random dates and ask point blank the person’s religious background and decide if to proceed forward. To me it matters what he likes vs what upsets him. Where do his principles come from? What is he as a person, a human being, a friend, a brother, a son, a worker, a dreamer? I incessantly ask him questions about things I’m ignorant about. He answers them graciously, surprising me with knowledge and details I wouldn’t have expected to my ‘simple’ questions. THAT is what characterizes getting to know someone rather than the societal question bank, which comes with select check boxes. A rigidity I will never adhere to. Both he and I came from mixed, exotic backgrounds and that appealed to me more than anything J #epicwin

Forget love. Basic friendships are subjected to such gruesome menial mentality. Followed by a hypocritical thesis on the most recent communal riots. 1 should not comment unless 1 truly believes that the opposing community is not solely at fault. Crimes, malpractices, unreasonable communal laws, all run across society. Yet the audacity to classify continues. When I visited an agyari (Parsi Fire Temple) I was asked where my sadra-kasti was (custom inner garb post baptism-like ceremony) and then dismissed cuz I was young. When I was taken to a Roman Catholic church by my hostel matron they dismissed me but let me stay on learning of my recovery from a severe bout of the chicken pox. When I went to the dargah I felt like I was ‘blessed’ harder by the priest that anyone else. When I was just outside a mosque I was stared at (that was Nigeria and we were the only Indians). When I stood in front of the wailing wall in Jerusalem I felt like a tourist – I was 1. When I dated my 1^st boyfriend, his mother tried hard to convert me to be a Born-again Christian. But maximum contradictions, questions, doubts, and ridiculousness came from my vast religion that I was born into – Hinduism. I cannot and will not go into the vastness of everything that’s followed and imposed; many times without understanding its purpose and history. Baseless practices like default settings. Robots at best.


I do not consider myself any less for not fitting into the standards. I pride myself in having my own religion – a potpourri if you will of all the good and spiritual I can pick up on. Lessons learnt and verses recited with deep meaning invoking something in me. An exotic relation with the guy upstairs… you know who hears me out when human ears are all too busy or reserved for other earthly purposes. I don’t disturb him much and he has been generally good to me with the occasional flutter. Or SHE has been good to me… We freely adjust you know. Fusing OUR religions J 

A link shared by an Ad-Exec buddy about a social experiment on racism goes well with this post: http://www.upworthy.com/a-boy-makes-anti-muslim-comments-in-front-of-an-american-soldier-the-soldiers-reply-priceless?g=2