Tuesday, March 24, 2009

What's in a name??

Mummy , the first word i ever uttered and the only name i associated with my mom for the first four years of my life.. at the tender age of four and a half ,reality shattered through my bubble when i found out mommy wasn t her name .... it was falguni.I remember telling my grandma she was mistaken and chastised her for not knowing better. For two days i was in denial and then came the stage of acceptance.. followed by a few more shocks when i found out papa was actually surinder and nani was not naani... oh the horrors a four year old s tender feelings endured ....who would ve thought ???

QWERTY the first six letters on the keyboard....... i remember using a typing program in high school called qwerty, for me, it was just an odd name .. i never did realise its significane till 8 months ago, and then my world changed...Nowadays, i feel we often think too much about names and their meanings... the significance atttached to them rather than about the person being addressed... I ve heard names dating back to the ancient times of mahabharata and the ramayana... krishna , arjuna, ram , most of them are very poppular today.... My own name for instance, Tanvi, was at the height of its poppularity in 1985, the year of my birth, when the actress tanvi azmi had just made her mark on the indian cinema..i guess my parents were not very original, either that or as my grandmother puts it they lacked imagination... a few months ago when i asked them, “why tanvi???”, my dad told me, “ it was either that or saraswati???” i mean, no offense to anyone, but,I dfinitely don t look like a sarawati?? and from then on i decided i liked my name , but it also fuelled an obsession in me to find the most different and exotic names, i guess i too had became a slave to the norms and mores of society.

For most of us names are an identity, a dimension of our personality, that defines us and gives our character a strength.. who would take a teacher called chaman or a super hero called fish seriously....?
from chat id s on the internet to names of babies ... evryone is on a quest to find the best and .the most striking names ever. Online, you are overwhelmed by a barrage of requests from vampire_slayer 49
and hercules246 only to find out that their real names are actually gopal and raju...
parents are calling their babies, Barbie and romeo .... and yes i too fully intend to name my children something exotic ... but all the near normal names i could think of are taken
and as of now my top choices for a boy would be Ischial tuberosity and Patella and for a baby girl scapula and acromion... limited as my choices are, i feel these anatomical terms would figure perfectly in todays world .... where kids are named Rain,brooklyn (bridge) , london, paris, apple , sky and even ryce ( thats pronounced rice as in the white stuff you eat with rasam). So, i don t think scapula and patella would be ridiculed in 6th period biology where everyone would be discussing bone markings...
Even dogs these days have human sounding names , an uncle of mine kept complainin about Saiba not being toilet trained.... Saiba as it turned out was a 4 month old labrador pup.
Sadly,Till now the most exotic near normal name , my overactive but little used imagination could muster up was Raina, and even that is not striking , just less common than geeta, vinita and rita.

Since all the celibrities are naming their kids cool sounding names like maddox and pelican i don t think i d be considered crazy to name my child after bones, for i fear that day is not far when we would have people called table and chair for the lack of more creative names.
Do you think I would get away with calling my kids Udupi and endpoint?? coming to think about it i remember my sisters birth, i remember a barrage of aunties claiming to have the perfect name for her, and i also remember how i added my two cents also to their discussion....... seeing how people were called sita and ram... i had decided to champion the cause of the underdogs, to my mothers horror i had chosen the name hanuman for my baby sister, for the first few months i called her hanuman, hanu for short and would happily inform any visitor with a smile to call her justthat. Eventually i conceded to call her alisha after my mom reasoned that hanuman was a boy name not a girley one. But nowadays names transcend even gender... there are girls called mike and boys called mike.. just by adding an e or a y ...robin can become a feminine robyn, and daniel can be danielle.. could it get any more confusing???

Even naming our magazine was a herculean task , all the good names were taken and the rest were well... not good enough. There had to be an easier way i thought....And these were the times i wishes we were all Red indians, who named the babies due to their qualities (red face , white dove) not expected their children to grow into the names. There had to be someway of finding a name that was different yet not bizzarre enough to draw snickers from the sidelines.. i even came across a website called namesforall.com which advertised four guaranteed good names for any category you chose ( baby girl, boy, softwares, events dogs ,.....) all at only rs.599... Now, why would i want to waste 600 rs on an unborn child or an unpublished magazine????
and after all this madnes and rut I think it was much better when i did not care about names and when i was too young to notice mommy was falguni and falguni means spring ( the season Spring..... not the coiled metal wire ) As shakespeare said ... whats in a name?
But i am still looking... any suggestions??

Sunday, March 22, 2009

Why I hate my Delhi sometimes.....

It's very often said that its not buildings and gardens that make a place what it is but the people who reside there...... I second that.
Being born and brought up in the same hood, I ve had good times and bad. Even though I had been away 5 years, I had no problem settling right back in Delhi because it was as if I never left the urban jungle. Those 5 years in Manipal disappeared like free booze on a Friday night .... and I realised I had never left even though I had tried.
I ve loved Delhi, missed it , forgotten it, hated it, left it.................... but, it had never left me.
There are times when the people here smother me with so much love and concern and there are times when their fatalistic attitude infuriates me to no end.
The hypocrisy, the dirty streets,people who would con you out your underwear if they had a chance, the corrupt cops but, i guess its no different from any other city in India... or the world.

A couple of months ago, around August, I remember very vividly being woken up in the middle of the night by my mom's screams and my dog barking.
It was about 3 and i guess i was in middle of my REM sleep cycle cause I just couldn't beleieve I was in real life.
There had been a fire in our garden because the electrical circuit board had blown, and there was smoke everywhere.
We ran in our nightwear and barefeet.... all the while trying to rememeber our physics classes to decide the best way to put an electrical fire... was it sand or mud???
I was trying to call the fire station, but no one was picking up and that frustrated me further..
Within minutes the whole street was awake and around us ... not out of concern as my cynical mind suggested but out of curiosity. As we stood there in the light drizzle each man there had his own two bits to add as to how to control the fire but no one stood up to help. And all the while I was trying to call the fire station..
Finally after half hour someone picked up and this was the most passive voice I ve heard..
Here I am calling up an emergency number at 3 30 in the morning , I sure as hell dont enjoy doing it... and I am defintely doing it cause there is an 'emergency'.
This bugger picks up the phone and in a monotonous bored voice first wastes 10 second saying namaste you have reached the fire station....( somehow this panicked me.... and I have always been the calm, in control one in the family).... So, anyway he starts asking me where, when, why are you calling so late, whats my name, my dad's name .... After about 7 minutes of this inane chatter he finally conceded that I was a genuine caller and not some schizo/drunk who enjoyed wasting the taxpayer's money.
It took another 20 minutes for the fire engine to arrive...... and another 15 minutes for it to circle the colony because all the gates were closed... I felt like I was in some Jewish ghetto in Russia.. ''nothing gets out after dark, nothing gets in either''.
The watchman and his keys were missing, so we had to break the lock on the gate and by the time we got home ............... the fire had burnt itself out. imagine that
much ado about nothing
i thank god now that the fire wasn t serious and no one got hurt.
But. this incident only served to remind me how much we still had to learn.
Today, we step into 21st century, trying to match upto the superpowers in the world
we have the resources and we definitely have the intelligence and ability, however what we do lack is the will and attitude to be winners.
whenever I compare the world to one major race I always pictue delhi falling behind in the race cause it stopped to have a chat and a chai and then discuss the other player's running styles and team colours..

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

Farewell, all joys! O Death, come close mine eyes! More Geese than Swans now live, more fools than wise.


So this post should explain the name SWAN SONG for my blog.
I am not some young chick trying to save mankind in a post apocalyptic word...
I defintely aint an ageing actor who has realised that this will be his final curtain call.
However, what i do know is that I ve wanted to be a writer my whole life. I'd love to have my work published and receive critical acclaim. Yet, here I am, conforming to the rigid norms of the typical Indian middle class family.
This blog is my way of thumbing my nose at all those people who said I can't. They can t break my spirit.
A swan song is the fabled last accomplishment or a dramatic appearance, carrying with it the connotation, that the performer is aware of this and he is expending all his energy in this one last magnificent effort..... or as some yuppy i know puts it ... 'the last flame before the rain'.
The silver Swan, who living had no Note,
when Death approached, unlocked her silent throat.
Leaning her breast against the reedy shore,
thus sang her first and last, and sang no more.


And before I become a slave to the conventions and don the mantle of a good Indian wife, the ubiquitous cook, soccer mom, dutiful daughter in law and the responsible doctor............ I shall live it out and sing my Swan Song. The writer in me shall go out with a bang ............. its gonna be one long bang cause I aint giving up that easy...........................

Friday, March 6, 2009

L.I.F.E........ or something like it.

A few months ago, my six year old niece came and asked me a question. She stood in front of me, her huge brown eyes wide open, reflecting the innocence and naivety of her tender years and asked me , “Di,What is Life?”. It caught me completely offguard, I was unsure of what to say and for the fear of sounding like a bumbling idiot, I took the easy way out. I told her to go ask her mom. Later, my curiosity got the best of me and I looked up 'life' in the dictionary...... only to get more confused. Active principles of existence of plants and animals.... whatever that was. So,i resorted to the good old art of thinking, thus putting my overactive yet little used brain to task. Sure enough ,a few hours later, the answer hit me full in the face at mach five. I realized that the answer to the enigma-that is easy way out. I told her to go ask her mom. Later, my curiosity got the best of me and I looked up 'life' in the dictionary...... only to get more confused. Active principles of existence of plants and animals.... whatever that was. So,I resorted to the good old art of thinking, thus putting my overactive yet little used brain to task. Sure enough ,a few hours later, the answer hit me full in the face at mach five. I realized that the answer to the enigma-that is life- lay in the word itself. Life was just that.....L.I.F.E. - love, imagination, friendship and experience.

Well, it’s true! Love, yes love, it makes the world go around. Love is a wonderful thing it comforts and heals, offers hope, helps complete forgotten journeys and accomplish impossible tasks. However, at the same time it can poison hearts, drive men to evil, cause downfall of kingdoms (remember Troy ? ) and even cause death. Love is the single most favourite Muse of artists, poets and other dead and great people, not to forget the songwriters. From Chaucer to Byron, Michaelangelo to Elvis and even the Roadside Romeo, they’ve all been struck by cupid's arrow. You can choose to fall in love or simply, just love someone. One cannot extol the true value of Love. It must be experienced to be understood and everyone should fall in love at least once in their lives. Love definitely makes this world a more interesting if not a better place.

Muhammad Ali has rightly said “The man who has no imagination has no wings”. Imagine and you can. The beginning of plans, the foundation of all great achievements. Imagination is a powerful tool. It helps transform even the most mundane and dreary things into interesting and beautiful ones. The mother of art, ideas, great inventions and entertainment, our fertile imagination has always pushed us towards the betterment of life. It works even when we sleep leading us into the Technicolor world of dreams. Dreams, our windows to newer horizons. Dare to dream and it just mind come true, for once you set your heart to it, your thoughts, body and environment will strive to achieve it.


One person, several roles, a guide, philosopher, partner in crime, supporter, babysitter, bank..... The list goes on. It is said,” No man is an island and we all need someone to hold our hand in times of trial”. So, whether it’s to bail you out of trouble, share joys, sorrows or just some fashion advice, we all need friends. Friends, the angels who lift you up when your wings have trouble. Friends, who walk in when the rest of the world walks out. We find friends in our parents, siblings, spouses, even neighbors and relatives if we stretch ourselves. Friendship transcends all boundaries like age, sex, race and even physical boundaries like borders. All relationship begin and end in friendship ands its a wonderful gift, to be cherished by all.

And last but not the least, Experience (although I must confess that in today's world economy would be more fitting, but is I still choose to stick with the former). Our lives are ruled by the new experiences and how we choose to react to them, what we learn from them and how we choose to inculcate these lessons in out lives. Our experiences- the people we meet, the hands that we shake, the doors we go in, emotions we feel- educate us. They empower us to live our lives better, enrich our beings and color our world in rich and vibrant hues. Each new flavor, aroma, sensation and emotion should be savored. So whether it’s a new word or a mistake we definitely learn. Even something as simple as, learning not to drive with a hot cup of coffee in your lap should be embraced, as it makes us smarter and better people. And hey, who would not want to arrive at the pearly gates of heaven and tell St. Peter, “ Dude, I've done it all !!!”.


In my opinion one does not need clothing or money to make them complete persons, but these four essentials. We should inculcate them in our life for without them the true meaning of life is lost. You see, Life is a journey, not a destination and these four things are the wheels of your car.
And since I choose to dispense my advice so freely, I am sure you are wondering about my qualifications, before you follow my advice. Well, dudes and dudettes, I was schooled in the Institution of Life...

Wednesday, March 4, 2009

Light travels faster than Sound !!!!!

The laws of physics definitely apply to the dating scenario................... I am not talking about relativity... that's an old one and I think Einstein got it right the first time around... so read on !

Picture this : a snazzy club, pulsating music, strobe lights that will remind you of the last hangover you had ( not a good idea... considering that another hangover is due tomorrow)....
You ' re dressed in your saturday best and you know tonight's the night..
You scan the room like a cheetah on prowl , lock eyes with a hot guy across the room and give him your smile. The girls with you lay bets on how long he' ll take to move across the floor and reach you. 10, 9, 8, 7 .............. and he is even better looking up close.
Tall, dark and hotttttttt. And he is dressed to the nines. Designer messed up hair, shirt and ironed jeans. As he gets closer, you notice the stubble on his jaw and it is sexy, gorgeous chocolate brown eyes and the perfect kissable lips. Could God get any kinder???
Its like manna from heaven, the first rain .... And suddenly he opens his mouth.
HAYLO Madam Can we do friendship???
Thats right !!! All my designs simplified ... All my dreams shattered into a million pieces.
and here i was naming our kids ...
Well folks Lesson for you physics just got interesting Light travels faster than sound ....

Tuesday, March 3, 2009

Eden Lost

I see myself in the mirror and look at what I’ve become …. I am not 4 anymore… when I would stand with my feet in my mother’s high heels, petulantly pouting, waiting to grow up. Those shoes don’t fit me now; they’re 3 sizes too small...
I remember long walks on the beaches of Goa, where I had to run to keep up with my dad’s long strides, refusing stubbornly to be carried... Today at the end of a flight of stairs I wait for my dad to catch up.
Finger painting with my mother, I compared my handprint to my mother’s and felt tiny…

In a magazine, I once saw a piece of art, the artist claimed to prove the difference in perspectives of an adult and a child through it. At 12, all I saw were dolphins in the picture, for days I tried to see something else. Now, at 22 I see the artist’s muse, a pair of lovers in a passionate embrace… the dolphins have disappeared and I search in vain hoping to catch a glimpse of a fin or a tail somewhere.

Oh yes Ma, I remember you holding me close, and I remember wriggling out of your arms when you said I’d always be your little girl. I wanted so much to grow up.. and today that girl is not so little anymore, she stands taller you and she really wants to be your little girl again. To hide in your bosom away form the big bad world.
Alas, growing up has extracted its price from all of us, the blood money that is our innocence. We gave it up happily ignoring the consequences. The harsh realities and the cold facts of life have eroded my innocence like a slow growing cancer and I realize that the return to innocence is a myth….. An urban legend.
Today my soul mourns for my loss and I cry silent tears into the velvet night. And like the lament for a lost lover its harsh obvious presence fills the emptiness of my days.
If only I had known the price for growing up would me my cocoon of bliss, I would have asked my mother to hold me back for a while longer. But, then I realized that’s exactly what she tried to do. And the harder she tried the more I struggled to be free of the shackles of childhood, the more I vied the apple of knowledge.
Eden is lost time and again for all those who grow up. And I watch a little baby smile in its sleep I feel jealous. It’s like a warped joke played on us by gods with a macabre and twisted sense of humor who never tire of the monotony.
It’s all around us, in every house, in every playground, the back of a car on a Saturday night… Eden is lost again…. and again and again.
I compare a recent picture to one taken years ago and I see only the eyes, how the difference glares at me. My eyes have aged.
Through a sepia tinted haze I look back at memories of me running naked throughout the house and the joyful screams of abandon reverberate. Today, memories of the joy have disappeared and all that remains is shame that colors my cheeks even now as I think about it. Now, even my memories of days gone by are tainted.

I wake up in the morning and walk to the mirror. Through sleep ridden eyes, I see not who I am but what I’ve become.