Thursday, May 30, 2013

Thursday night thoughts

Well the much needed holiday nears it's end and I will be back to work on Sunday. I have truly been content these past few days. I spent hours looking out of my window. Sometimes birds came by and the dog never left my side. There was plenty of solitude so necessary to feed my soul. I walked for long periods of time each day and it was so refreshing. A lot of the time there were no thoughts in my mind at all, just an awareness of everything around me. The sound of the mosques. The people walking by. The cars zipping by. The trees gently undulating in the breeze. Strangely I felt as though this quietness permeated my very being. I felt calm as though nothing would ever faze me. Strangely I felt as though I have everything I need. I read books and watched old movies and some new. I feel good. I feel serene and balanced. I know that when I go back to work it will be with renewed vigour and vitality. I have another two days of happy holidays left and I intend to enjoy them fully.

Tuesday, May 28, 2013

The holiday

I've been on holiday this week. Not going anywhere, just taking a breather and enjoying the days pass by slowly and wonderfully. Yes I can safely say that I'm quite content. I like whiling away time so I've been doing that. I like taking long walks with Ninna for company so we've been doing that everyday with pleasure. The picture is of a garden light I saw on one of our walks. I've been reading and really enjoying it. I just finished reading Jane Eyre and started reading The Name of The Rose by Umberto Eco. The picture of us was taken at Dina's wedding while I was busy taking pictures of us on my phone. I love the black and white. I love the joy in the image. It makes me smile. I've tried very hard to format this post but somehow this is the way it has decided to look. Well so be it.

Friday, May 24, 2013

Lovely Friday

It's been a lovely Friday. The no make up with big glasses look is lovely too heh heh!

Thursday, May 23, 2013

My prayer

My husband is a wonderful man and I don't know if it's even possible for anyone to love me as much as he does. Today I want to send out a prayer to the powers that be- Let us always be joyous together. Let us be blessed with love and understanding. Let us find light in each other when the night grows dark. Let us be complete as two people and perfect as one. Let us be patient and kind to one another. Let us forgive each others' flaws and follies. Let us travel together on physical, emotional and spiritual journeys. Let us be blessed each day like the sunlight blesses the earth each morning.

Sunday, May 19, 2013

The open face

As I grow older I embrace myself more than I used to when I was younger. I understand that a face with a countenance rich in kindness will have an undiminished beauty for all the years to come. Lately I rarely wear make up and bare skin is my chosen ornament. My glasses are my best friends and even though I wear lenses once in a while I'm always relieved when I take them off. As any woman sometimes I'm harsh on the condition of my skin, the wrinkles around my eyes but now I forgive myself more easily. Soon I will complete 39 years and the fortieth year of my life will begin. I look forward to caring less about the surface, more about my inner world and promise to read more books :)

Ladies of the night

Prostitution, the oldest profession in the world. I wonder sometimes what makes a woman decide to sell her body. To get into a stranger's car or a hotel room for money. I've never spoken to one but somehow each time I've seen one I looked at them with wide eyes wondering what their life must be like. I didn't feel disgust instead a sense of curiosity and sadness. I still remember when I was in college and my friend and I wanted to make a film about an area known for prostitutes in Ahmedabad. Of course the idea was rejected as being too dangerous and we were both disappointed but got over it soon enough as young people get over things. The first time I met a prostitute was in Bombay. Actually it was a male prostitute, a gigolo. I was doing my internship at a production house in Bombay and I was 21 years old. The same friend was also interning at a production house and she was asked to round up some European looking people for a shoot. So off she went to Mondegar and got a few people. She got friendly with this hunky guy and we decided to go for a drink. So there we were at a nightclub dancing and drinking. The man who's name was Carlos I think, definitely an Italian paid for our drinks and we parted late at night. The next day my friend told me with much glee,"You know he's a gigolo!" I'm sure my mouth hung open. Apparently he came to India for a few months and pleased ladies with big purses, made his money and then went back to Italy to spend time at leisure. Apparently he had a set of regular clients in Bombay and business was good!

The second time was a very different experience. I was married by then. My husband, brother in law Mukul and I went to this famous biryani place. The biryani was taking some time to be packed and Mukul happened to mention that Kamathipura was the lane right in front of us. I still remember I was dressed in a pristine white churidaar and kurta. I begged Mukul to take me for a walk in the lane. So he relented and we walked together. There were women dressed in tight revealing clothes lining up the lane on both sides. Some of them looked at me with a sardonic smile. I stood out like a sore thumb in my white garb. I will never forget the experience of walking through that lane, most of all I will never forget the smell. It was like molasses in the air. It was not a stench but it was an overwhelming smell of what could only be sex. I remember children's voices and slow murmurings of women. I couldn't stay for very long and begged to return as that air seemed to stifle me. I felt sad. There was nothing I could do for them. But did they even want my help even if I wanted to give it. I don't know. I never could gather the courage to speak to any of them. I simply fled.

I moved to Dubai and was once at a new year party at a hotel. The music was loud and I escaped often to the lobby for some silence. One such time I got into the lift to go down to the lobby and two statuesque women got in. They were absolutely beautiful, smelled like expensive perfume and their perfect figures were dressed in sexy black dresses. I was mesmerised by their sheer beauty as they towered over me being at least six feet tall. The lift doors opened and they got out in the lobby. I sat opposite them at a distance and pretended to fiddle with my phone. Two men walked in to the lobby and the four of them whispered to each other. The men moved away and talked and then returned to the women. Negotiations ensued and finally all four of them left together. Again I was left with a feeling of sadness that so much beauty existed only to be sold for an agreed price.

Another time Anshuman and I were walking in bur Dubai going for dinner when we passed a hotel well known for prostitutes. I saw them lined up. All of them wore something shiny, blingy to distinguish them as ladies of the night. A few men were around haggling with them. I was again mesmerised by the scene and my husband walked ahead and for a while I was walking alone. Suddenly I noticed a man walking towards me looking at me glaringly. I covered my head  and face with a dupatta and ran to Anshuman and held his hand tightly till we crossed that road. Anshuman was a bit surprised to see me swaddled that way but put an arm around me and we walked away.

I once wrote an article about a shelter for abused women in Dubai and a lot of these woman are victims of  sex trafficking. I was very busy and didn't actually go to the shelter. I should go and be useful. May be I can make a difference. Now I'm wondering what was it that made me think of these women to day and now I think it was this song that was playing in the car by Bruce Springsteen called Secret Garden which my husband believes is clearly talking about a prostitute. "There's a secret garden she hides" may be he means to say that a woman will give you her body, her heart for a price but you cannot buy her humanity. You cannot buy her soul. I feel differently about the song. I don't think it's about a prostitute. I think it's about a woman who gives a man everything he wants, each and every part of herself and yet he can never own her completely. There will always be a part of her that he cannot touch.

Secret Garden by Bruce Springsteen

She'll let you in her house
If you come knockin' late at night
She'll let you in her mouth
If the words you say are right
If you pay the price
She'll let you deep inside
But there's a secret garden she hides
She'll let you in her car
To go drivin' 'round
She'll let you into the parts of herself
That'll bring you down
She'll let you in her heart
If you got a hammer and a vise
But into her secret garden, don't think twice

You've gone a million miles
How far'd you get
To that place where you can't remember
And you can't forget

She'll lead you down a path
There'll be tenderness in the air
She'll let you come just far enough
So you know she's really there
Then she'll look at you and smile
And her eyes will say
She's got a secret garden
Where everything you want
Where everything you need
Will always stay
A million miles away

Wednesday, May 15, 2013

Sensual rhythms

I was watching this video and the music was just so beautiful. Everything including the beat, the singer's voice and most of all the dancers are so graceful, sensual, passionate and powerful. It's not the best visually edited piece but the music got to me so I thought I'll share it with my one and a half readers. The music is repeated and the second video is really crap so just hear the music and enjoy...


Monday, May 13, 2013


I've loved Neruda for a very long time. Sometimes I read his poems and I fall in love with them. I was watching this movie called 'Saheb, Biwi aur gangster returns" and this woman Mahie Gill plays the Biwi (wife) of a political leader who used to be a king. She's an alcoholic and clearly disturbed. Once in a drunken stupor she says to Irrfan Khan playing the gangster,"Why do I always find men? why not poets?"

I was thinking about the movie and was reminded of Neruda so I searched for him and found this poem. It's beautiful like most things he writes are...

By Pablo Neruda

I have scarcely left you
When you go in me, crystalline,
Or trembling,
Or uneasy, wounded by me
Or overwhelmed with love, as
when your eyes
Close upon the gift of life
That without cease I give you.

My love,
We have found each other
Thirsty and we have
Drunk up all the water and the
We found each other
And we bit each other
As fire bites,
Leaving wounds in us.

But wait for me,
Keep for me your sweetness.
I will give you too
A rose.

The Maserati man

So I was driving to work in the morning singing at the top of my voice as is my habit. I didn't even realise when I moved into the fast lane. I must've been going at 110 kms/hr and singing happily when suddenly a Maserati overtook me from the right and hit the breaks right in front of me. I braked hard too and barely avoided an accident. I could see the driver making wild angry gestures so I made a few of my helpless ones. I couldn't fathom why he was so angry. I was only under 10kms from the highest speed allowed on Sheikh Zayed Road. He then proceeded to come to my right and rolled down his window. I rolled down mine and he started yelling something and gesturing that he had been flashing his lights behind me so I would get out of his way. So I politely gestured for him to overtake me. He kept gesticulating wildly for a while and I kept telling him to go ahead and overtake me. Finally he went zipping and I'm sure he must've managed to get caught by the speed radar but then men with Maseratis can probably afford to pay those easily. I changed lanes and moved to a slower one. I continued to sing at the top of my voice. Who cares for the road rage of men in Maseratis.

Wednesday, May 08, 2013

I could never kill a man

So I haven't been around for a while. Things have been in a flux and when that happens all your energies go into organising the chaos and you forget important things like updating your blog. In any case here I am hale and hearty with a beautiful new song.I love the woman's voice, sweet and gentle but why do I feel like she's perfectly capable of killing a man.

Through the morning, through the night- Robert Plant & Alison Krauss

Believe me when I tell you
I will try to understand
Believe me when I tell you
I could never kill a man

But to know that another man's holding you tight
Hurts me, little darling
Through the morning, through the night

The bond has been broken
The promise you gave
The words that were spoken
I can not be your slave

But to know that the trust you had in me is gone
Hurts me, little darling
Through the night time, through the dawn

I dreamed just last night you were there by my side
Your sweet loving tenderness
Easing my pride

But then I awoke dear and found you not there
It was just my old memory of how much I care