“Piglet sidled up to Pooh from behind. "Pooh?" he whispered.
"Yes, Piglet?"
"Nothing," said Piglet, taking Pooh's hand. "I just wanted to be sure of you.” 
                            
                                                                                                                    -Winnie-the-Pooh

So much of love becomes expectations. The most memorable of all moments of being in love and being loved, a pair of circumstances combining to produce that most supremely sublime of feelings, are the quietly spontaneous ones.

"Jenny kissed me when we met,

Jumping from the chair she sat in.

Time, you thief! who love to get

Sweets into your list, put that in.

Say I'm weary, say I'm sad;

Say that health and wealth have missed me;

Say I'm growing old, but add-

Jenny kissed me!"

Those that make your heart jump a little like Jenny jumped from the chair, moments that were never requested and can never be replicated. 

A Strange Episode I Still Don't Understand

I thought of this quite suddenly today. Actually, to be fair, it wasn't all that sudden and unsolicited a thought. I was trying to think back to remarkable incidents from when I was younger. This is one of those that I think back to once in a while but utterly fail to understand even now. Either it was utterly inconsequential and meaningless or it was so poignant and full of life's mysteries that I have not been able to unravel it despite (or is it because of?)all the growing up that I have done (on an aside, I am finding it a little amusing that the more adult I am becoming, the more posts there are about growing up - I'd have thought the process would've been done with by now). Anyway, let me put the facts before you first. I know that many people hate pre-story rambling - I for one get annoyed to death by pre-story analyses and disclaimers. Okay then.

So I was around 7 years old, visiting an aunt with my brother. My cousin had a Tibetan Lhasa called Boney. My cousin was 9 years old and very fond of Boney. One day, after lunch, it was time to take Boney for a walk. My brother and I tagged along. I wanted to hold Boney's leash while we walked him. My cousin said that he (Boney) had a bit of a wild streak, and it might be a better idea for him (my cousin) to keep the leash. But I was adamant. I said I would be careful and hold the leash tightly. So my cousin gave me the leash. It was all fine for the first ten minutes, Boney trotted along sniffing plants and eating mud. Then, as on most occasions that come with warnings, things went awfully wrong. Boney caught sight of a dog from an enemy camp and decided to chase him. He tugged and tugged at the leash. Now, interestingly, from the point of him spotting the evil dog to him escaping the leash, it couldn't have been more than a few seconds, and given that almost 17 years have passed since the incident, I would be excused for not remembering the exact sequence of events very clearly. But I do. I remember that Boney tugged at the leash, and I held on to it tightly. Then he tugged again, but I could have controlled it long enough to let my cousin grab hold of the leash or the dog and make sure he didn't run. But I didn't. For some reason I can't put my finger on even today, I let go. I do, however, remember that I had reasoned it out perfectly in the second or two that it took me to make the decision. And even today, I regret what followed, but I do not question the decision itself- it seemed like the natural thing to have done then. Anyway, once I let go, Boney ran off at a surprisingly swift pace for the lazy dog he otherwise was. I turned to my cousin, fearing some sort of angry outburst, the confidence of my well-reasoned decision slipping out me at an also-remarkably swift pace. He did not have even the slightest frown of anger on his face. It was a look of responsibility and concern, and he told me and my brother to go back to the house and that he would get Boney. Given that he was only 2 years elder to me, I felt I could, despite being the cause for the entire drama, have a say in the matter, and I said, why don't we go and tell Mausa what has happened. My cousin said there was no time, that the other dogs would bite Boney, and took off after him. I then went back to the house with my brother and waited anxiously for my cousin to return. I had sort of assumed that Boney would not be found - I mean, how would my cousin be able to tell where exactly he had gone to chase the evil dog. As it turned out however, this was a fairly frequent thing Boney did, and my cousin found him quite easily and was back within fifteen minutes of our return. Both he and Boney had some cuts and bruises on them - from bushes as also from the strays that were lurking about in enemy territory. I was now scared out of my wits. I expected that my Mausa and Mausi would be highly displeased that my irresponsible conduct had resulted in injuries to both their son and their dog. But before that, I expected that I would get a scolding and a lecture from my cousin, who was after all, 2 years elder to me. Now, this is the part I absolutely don't get. My cousin went and washed himself and Boney and put Dettol on all wounds. He then gave Boney his food and came into the hall, where my brother and I were sitting quietly and squirming, and cheerfully started talking to us. Like nothing had happened. I kept waiting for there to be some disapproval, disappointment, anger or at least an I-told-you-so. Nothing. It was like he had forgotten the episode. He did not even tell his parents that it had been my fault - he cheerfully said that Boney had slipped away yet again and went to the doctor bravely to get the wounds checked.

I cannot for the life of me, to this day, understand why he wasn't at least a little angry with me. Agreed, Boney used to slip away frequently. But this one was my fault. He should at least have asked me why I had let the leash slip or not called out to him when Boney tugged. He handled it with a level of responsibility and maturity and un-snitchiness that I was not aware existed in the world. I get love for your dog, I get that he risked his life and ran into a swamp full of strays to save him. I am sure most dog-owners would do that without batting an eyelid. But I cannot sufficiently express how much his behaviour vis-a-vis me baffles me even today. Like I said, it probably meant nothing. It probably means that this cousin of mine has the essence of goodness that all spirituality is supposed to fetch. I remain confused by various aspects of the episode and why it means so much to me.

Full-time Friend

'Listen.'

'Yeah?'

 

'How long do u think I'm gona remain depressed?'

'I say 1 month 26 days.'

 

':P I am serious.'

'So am I.'

'I am getting a lil tired of this sadness routine.'

'Thats when I get back.'

'Oh god. Who'd u go to exotic place with?'

Some things are so intensely private and so beautiful, you want to shout them out to the world. If you've been in a friendship like this one, you'll want to write a book about it.

Update

It’s been a while. My last blog post interestingly was two days before I started working. And this one is thanks to the fact that I am on a week-long chuma leave.

It is impossible to chronicle the activities of an entire almost-year. So just a couple of observations based on the wisdom I have gained.

College is just an experiment that is performed on you- it is not intended to, nor does it in any way, prepare you for anything to follow it. When you are sad, try singing out loud, top of your lungs types. It helps like nothing else. Working gives you a failing memory- and if yours was already failing, you’ll be amnesia-stricken soon enough. No seriously, you forget every damn thing- from the smallest chores to calling clients- it’s all just one long haze. Oh and time does fly- it gets divided in a peculiar fashion into hazes of weekdays and hazes of weekends. Nothing is indispensible- not even the hostel terrace- I am growing increasingly partial to the ledge of my window.

All in all, it has been an interesting almost-year. I have met many interesting new people, which I understand is not a common phenomenon. Better still, I actually like most of them. I have also started using corporate-lawyery phrases like “I understand…”. I understand now that a sense of calm will prevail eventually- it has to, being agitated is simply too exhausting. So many things have changed, it has been a tad difficult to keep track some times. I went through an I-hate-Bombay-back-to-loving-Bombay phase. I even wore toe rings in February. So yeah.

I am a really weird person. I don't know why, but whenever I am on the brink of starting something new (in this case my first job), something which brings the promise of new experiences and so on, I start feeling bad for the people I am leaving behind in embarking on this journey. Leaving behind in the sense, the people who are not starting a similar journey, or who haven't had and/ or will never have the opportunity of starting one such journey.
Half my excitement at my own good fortune gets diluted in this 'feeling bad'.

I really hope I toughen up, soon.

Sniffing Down Memory Lane

Today, I washed my hair with Sunsilk Black shampoo. And the smell took me back to a much simpler time, about 15 years or so ago, when fancier brands of shampoo hadn't entered the Indian market, and one's choices were limited to the various colours of Sunsilk, a few brands here and there, shikakai, and anything your generous relatives from abroad were nice enough to bestow upon you.

I was reminded of a summer holiday at my nani's house, when almost all my maternal cousins (about 15 of them) were also on holiday from their various courses or, in some cases, jobs. We would sit through the long summer days, playing cards, talking away, making fun of each other (this got rather heated sometimes, especially between cousins of roughly the same age- being one of the youngest cousins, I got the advantage of not having to take sides, but could express my love and support to both parties equally, without pressure), eating mangoes, playing cricket, watching movies in theatres with fans, and in ridiculously large numbers, eating lunch/ dinner in batches, and rounding up near the tiny black-and-white TV at around 10p.m., post-dinner, to watch something that would be of interest to persons of various age groups, ranging from my nana to my younger brother.

And I was reminded of the tiny bathroom, and the lengthy bathing ritual we went through every day. First, the motor for the water had to be turned on in the morning, after which all the elder people in the household went for their baths, usually in order of seniority. Thereafter, it was our turn. And there would be massive fights, chit-picking, philosophical debates, coin-tossing, and many other such turn-deciding events. Despite this process of determining the order of the bathing line, there were some cheaters and some line-cutters, who would jump in, and spend the rest of the day appeasing the person who they had cut ahead of (memorably, I remember a cousin of mine cutting ahead of another, and after he went in, she sang after him 'Na jaana mere badshaah, ek hi waade ke liye, ek hi waada tod kar..', in response to which he sang 'Main waapas aaunga.. ek hi waade ke liye, ek hi waada tod kar'. It's funny this has stayed with me, because my family is quite filmy and musical at times, and this wasn't some incredibly well-suited song to the situation. But I was about 6 or 7, and found it really impressive that he knew the lines that followed the two lines she sang, or something like that). And after this entire drama, one's bath had to be lightening quick, because someone was standing outside the bathroom door, waiting with towel in hand, to go in. 

And in so much discord, in a situation with such limited resources (yes, the water ran out once in a while, sometimes mid-bath), there was such harmony. Things moved about slowly but pleasantly. It was taken for granted that the bathing ritual would start from 9 in the morning, and continue till after 2 in the afternoon. And the funny bit was, noone complained. Everyone took great pleasure in the bathing-line-determining process, the chit-chat that happened while we stood waiting for our turn. Noone was in a hurry, noone complained about there being only one bath room.

In all of these lovely memories of some of the best times of the best times (childhood) of my life, the smell of Sunsilk Black shampoo distinctly stands out. Of all the virtues that Sunsilk shampoos of different colours could provide you, my cousins seemed to value 'Shine' the most (which was Sunsilk Black's promise). And I remember there being one bottle of Sunsilk Black being kept on the window-sill of the bathroom religiously, every single day, in every single vacation when I was there. And everyone used Sunsilk Black, and on Sundays especially, everyone's hair smelled of Sunsilk Black. 

Both my maternal grandparents passed away in the 1990s. My nani's house has now been sold to strangers. I haven't gone there in over 5 years. I haven't met all my cousins at the same time since 1997. I haven't gone to Patna for a summer holiday with my entire family in over 8 years. 

Yet, when I saw the bottle in my bathroom today, I couldn't help but use it immediately, and inhale deeply to take in the smell completely. And relive my entire summer holiday in those few seconds.