Waiting for Santa...

I remember scenes of a time long past -
Memories of a far away winter night,
As my parents wish me sweet dreams,
Instructing me to sleep tight!
They carefully tuck me in and give me a peck on my cheek,
I pretend to have dozed off but I am still aware
As the lights go off & the door closes with a creak.

It’s Christmas time - the merry festive season,
And I can barely sleep – Santa is the reason!
I can’t wait to draw the curtains and sneak a peep,
But I know I have to patiently wait till my parents are asleep!

My fidgety eyes glance around the dark room -
To check that all is in order - Santa will be visiting soon.
The adorned tree first I admire,
Decked with trinkets in red, gold and sapphire!
With pretty wreaths and bells the walls are decorated,
An angel watches over the solemn crib, while Santa’s arrival is eagerly awaited.
Soon, I realize that the house is quiet and dark
The only light that shines comes from the star hung in the window
On my night-long vigil I can now fearlessly embark,
My parents are finally asleep, I know!

All too soon my covers are shoved aside
And I rush to push open the drape
And behind the curtains I hide,
To stare out into the cool landscape!
I can see little lights in homes glimmering
And can hear the distant hum of a Christmas Carol
As The stars in the night sky are shimmering
I await Santa’s imminent arrival.

I tire of sitting by the window,
It's way past midnight but he still hasn’t come
I refuse to let my spirits dip low
I find other things to keep me from growing glum!
My Kitchen Set and Pretty Doll keep me busy for awhile,
Santa got me those for last Christmas, you know…
He’ll be proud of me - I’ve cared for them in style!

More time goes by with no sign of Santa,
And I soon tire of my toys.
I sneak into the kitchen to get some sweets,
I’m very careful to make no noise!
I assure myself that Santa will overlook this little act
As I slowly devour the marzipan and chocolate.
I’ve been a very good girl all year round – and that’s a fact!
I pretend to be a fairy with my sheets draped around me,
But that doesn’t keep me busy for too long.
I wonder what I should do next while I wait for Santa…
I sing a few Carols, hum a happy song!

But that doesn’t lift my spirits…
Soon I’m too weary but Santa still isn’t here…
I lose the battle against sleep and my tired eyes given in.
I lose myself in a fretful dream – Santa won’t come I fear.

Every Christmas eve till I was 11 years old was spent quite the same way. I’d first frantically wait for my parents to fall asleep and then I’d wait frantically for Santa to arrive on his sleigh with Rudolph the red-nose reindeer leading the entourage of reindeers! I’d imagine Santa, in his bright red suit with his bright red big goodie bag, trying to squeeze through the box-grills that protected our windows -not half as exciting as shimmying down a chimney, I agree! But unfortunately sleep would arrive before Santa each year.

In the mornings, however, I’d wake to the sounds of Christmas carols and my parents cooing “Merry Christmas” to me. And the first sights that I would take in would be my little brother happily playing with his new toys with the colourful wrapping paper littered around him. That’s when I’d realise happily that Santa had not given our humble home a miss this year! I really must’ve been a good girl!

Now, however, that I am older and mature with all the wisdom gained from reading Paulo Coelho, I know how silly and futile it was to wait for Santa each Christmas.

Of course Santa isn’t real? Or is he???

I think Santa does exist… only he doesn’t live in the North Pole – he resides within each one of us – in our inherent goodness! And we don’t need to wait for Christmas in order to make someone’s day. We can do it anytime – a smile, a polite request, a heartfelt thank you, a sincere apology, a kind word, a pep talk, a silly joke, a thoughtful act, a sweet surprise… Ho! Ho! Ho!

The Order in the Chaos

Dan Brown’s audacious book, The Da Vinci Code, is a fast paced thriller that has captivated audiences, capturing their imagination and catapulting them into an adventurous medley of history and mystery. But of all the speculation the book brought to the fore and of all the far-fetched long-forgotten theories it brought back into the limelight, there was one line that seemed to hold an infinite truth - “For all the chaos in the world, there is an undying order.” And who better to vouch for this fact than a person who has spent a few years travelling by Mumbai’s most trusted and over burdened mode of transport – the trains.

Chaos – utter disorder – is not hard to imagine when you are travelling in a local train especially during “peak” hours when millions of office goers are packed in compartments like sardines in a tin. And will it be too hard to imagine the chaos that might prevail in the Ladies compartment?

Station after station women, weary with the world, hop on before the train can halt completely. Their only hope is to find an empty space sufficient to at least rest both feet firmly on the floor. Frazzled women eager to get to work or home to their families and chores make a beeline for the exit in a bid to scramble off before the train resumes its somnolent journey.

Once inside the chaotic medley is unmatched. Women will be standing in every nook and cranny available and in positions that even expert acrobats would find it hard to imitate. It is nearly impossible to move without upsetting another’s balance and without dropping something. And what makes this disarray even more interesting are the number of activities that are accomplished despite the crowd and such activity only adds to the chaos – appointments will be fixed; children will be placated; maids and husbands will receive their instructions; weekends will be planned; many will doze on their neighbour’s shoulder; hawkers will somehow find their way in the melee and there will always be those who will haggle with them; office work and even household chores (like cutting vegetables and knitting!) will be attended to; prayers will be muttered; food will be eaten; many will read or listen to music or solve crossword puzzles; gossip will fly; fights will erupt; and the din will be overbearing.

Amidst the jostling and the jeering, the yanking and the yelling, there is an inherent order that can only be spotted by a few - either the astute observer (who is involved in none of the aforementioned activities) or the seasoned traveller or the truly bored yet imaginative (yours truly)! As a service to the general, unsuspecting public let me introduce you to some of these very elaborate, seemingly chaotic but exceeding orderly procedures…

The doorways will always seem to be cramped with women in the most haphazard manner. Yet there is an age-old and unbreakable code of alighting and boarding the train. Only half the exit will be used for such purposes at a given station while the other half will be occupied by women queuing to exit at the next station. This alternate pulsing in the flow of traffic in the compartment continues till either the crowd has thinned considerably or the train reaches its destination. Usually it is the latter that is first to come about.

And that is not all. There are elaborate rituals when it comes to queuing to exit at a particular station. When the compartments are jam-packed leaving barely enough space to squeeze through, women have a typical manner in which they make their way to the exit. This usually involves systematically tapping the shoulders of those already stranded in the corridors ahead of oneself and enquiring if they too have lined up to exit at the said destination. If they are, then one carefully positions oneself behind them and makes a general enquiry if all those ahead of them will also be alighting at the same said destination. This, of course, is a thoughtful query to avoid even further confusion when the said destination does arrive. This should not be misunderstood as an implication of the enquirer’s superior judgement.

If, however, the poor trapped soul has to alight at a destination after your own, then the efforts begin to painfully move ahead while the said person struggles to move out of harm’s way in a less obstructive place (if there might be such a place). One follows this process of tapping-enquiring-struggling-to-push-past process till one encounters another who has to alight at the same said destination as oneself.

While on the issue of alighting let me enlighten you as to what the official rules state. “Allow passengers to alight first” is the norm laid down and expected to be followed. But it is a known fact that the dynamics change dramatically when, during peak hours, the train is pulling into its final junction and is set to take off again to another destination after a brief halt. Everyone knows the unspoken law of the land, where passengers waiting to alight have to remain relegated to a corner out of harm’s way while others board, nay bound and leap, into the train while rushing to grab prime seats.

There is also a different set of etiquette for “reserving” or, as is known in local parlance, “claiming” seats. As the train gets crowded and seats meant for 3 are occupied by 4 passengers (a matter of seconds during peak hours after the bounding and leaping). The ladies left standing (read: Ancient art of balancing) begin the systematic ritual of “claiming” seats. This system is so inherent and prevalent that often verbal cues are redundant. The code of conduct while claiming seats is simple. One always begins from the prime seats (near the window on the “breezy” side) and makes one’s way methodically towards the lesser-favoured ones. Attention is sought by taps and jabs and sometimes, though extremely rarely, a polite “excuse me”. Next one simply points at the recipient of the tap or jab and the person replies (often grunts) their destination.

The often unspoken deal is struck if 2 conditions in the prescribed order are satisfied – 1) The person seated will alight at a destination before oneself and 2) one will receive sufficient time to catch up on some sleep after being seated & before one has to alight. The deal is sealed, again, by non-verbal cues. Usually the cue involves pointing to one’s self and then to the owner of the seat implying that one will occupy the seat once the person seated vacates it. Very rarely is a smile exchanged between the jabber and the jabbee, though it is known to happen.

Friend circles are formed among those with similar interests or backgrounds – harrowed working women, college girls, or members of the same society or workplace. These groups often indulge in one or more of the aforementioned activities. But in addition to that, these groups are also known to celebrate birthdays or anniversaries (with food and drinks et al), sing songs and hymns, play activist roles whose agendas may be as varied as allotment of seats or the functioning of fans or the more profound moral policing.
There are other patterns and peculiarities that emerge in this daily affair of travelling by trains. Women, protective of their accessories, will stow away their jewellery and stoles and scarves safely in their bags. No sooner do they get seats (usually after leaping and bounding or following the rules of “claiming”) than the meticulous process of dressing up begins!

There are also enough displays of compassion to restore your faith in humanity. The way women who are standing inside the compartment assist the ladies stranded in the passageway by taking their bags and stowing them on the overhead racks is touching. And when a kind lady offers her precious seat to another tired one it just stirs your heart.
The pattern in the peculiarities and the method in the madness is evident when one looks closely –, the unique rules of boarding or alighting, the elaborate system of “claiming” seats, the myriad of pursuits accomplished, in the deft tactics employed in making one’s journey a mite more comfortable... Indeed, the order in the chaos exists in the entire gamut of minute manoeuvres that ensue when travelling by our beloved trains!

The Perfect Vase - Someone Somewhere is Made For You!

“Someone somewhere is made for you” – a cliché that has been the theme of many a mushy movie, an idea that has inspired several soppy stories, a wistful promise that many of us unknowingly hold onto…The cliché further inspires another stereotype – that elusive “someone” who is in hiding “somewhere” but is yet perfectly “made for you” always conjures up romantic reveries. The tall-dark-and-handsome; the damsel-in-distress; the strong-and-silent.

When, however, this age-old truism is rationally analysed, what it reflects is the basic concept of compatibility. It conveys a hope that there is in fact one person, in this multitude of millions, who complements and completes you. So who has defined criteria for such people? Why is it that in most cases this dictat is linked to romance?

Quite often that mysterious “someone” could be a person one has always known – a parent, a friend, a relative, a neighbour, a pet… Like, for example, when we set out in search of that perfect vase – the one you’ve always dreamed of – the one that you’ve always pictured in your mind as being ideal for that spot on the mantle. You set out in search of that elusive vase and return disappointed because you find not a single piece of ceramic or metal that meets your notion of that perfect vase. Then one day, while you are rummaging through stuff you already own, you stumble upon this ornate picture frame – a long forgotten gift. A gift that now seems, to your eyes, so pretty and amazing that you cannot imagine why you ever thought less of it. You turn it around in your hands, holding it carefully, like someone would cradle a new-born or a rare solitaire, and revel in its ornate exquisiteness. And just as a sudden shaft of light brightens the darkest of corners, realisation dawns on you, and you walk up to the mantle and delicately arrange the frame there, your mind has already absorbed the perfect fit and is now imagining which lucky picture would be brought to life in the magnificence of that lovely frame, once just a casual part of your existence but now the light of your home and joy of your heart!!!

On the other hand, that “someone” may not be readymade for you – one may have to tailor the relationship as it comes along... Like, for instance, the skilled mason who brings to your home his incredible skill and expertise yet listens to your every whim and fancy about the vase you wish to have. He offers his advice and sometimes you take it. Sometimes you don’t and he gives in. Finally he moulds the clay and brings to you the vase – you take one look at it and know that YES! This is it! Your proposal and his proficiency, your vision and his work, your heart and his hands – a few compromises, some synergy and Voila! We have the perfect Vase!!!

And a few may find an instant match…Someone who understands you to the deepest recesses of your mind and heart… like that perfect vase you find unexpectedly, the one you’ve always dreamed of to adorn your house, the one that you know will fit so perfectly on the mantle and will blend into the fabric of your home so seamlessly yet its inherent beauty will make it stand out from the rest of the furniture and ornaments that bedeck your house. The perfect vase, the one with the stunning curves, painted that perfect deep shade of red, with an intricate design carved into its smooth surface oh! So delicately! The perfect vase, the one that enlivens the atmosphere around you, that charges the air with an inescapable energy, the one that brightens your day, the one whose vibrant hues fill your heart and home with happiness, that perfect vase – with a deep shade of red, a red that stands for passion and symbolises a never ending love!

At the end of it all, it really does not matter who your soulmate is – just the knowledge and discovery of that one special person who understands you to the depths of your heart. I do hope that each of us find ourselves our own Perfect Vases and when that happens, to borrow lines from a famous movie (Stop! Or my Mom will Shoot), – reach out and grab the person with both hands and don’t let go! May you find the “someone somewhere who is made for you” –and may you live happily ever after!

Discovering the Adventure in Every Moment...

I always did hold it against the Powers That Be for depriving me of An Adventure of a Lifetime……

The day will go down in History as one of the most disastrous ones as Mumbai drowned in the furious deluge of Biblical proportions. Thousands of Mumbaiittes waded through chest deep water, walked for miles and spent the night on any nook and cranny of the city that wasn’t being choked with muddy water. I, on the other hand, got the last train out (before all services came to a standstill as water seeped onto the tracks). I waded through only calf-deep water and got back home while the phone lines were still functioning and electricity still powered the TV set to announce “Breaking News” of the mayhem that was just beginning to unfold. On the bright side, I did get soaked to the bone because I had unwittingly chosen this day to leave my umbrella peacefully resting on the window sill back home. But even this little silver lining around the large big black clouds (some of which were bursting with rain and submerging the city) waned when I realised that I missed my “adventure” by a mere seconds - one second too late and I would have been stranded like all the million others who did get their adventure (though none of them shared my enthusiasm, I suspect!).

However, a wise old man managed to swing my perceptions. “Adventure”, the great one quote with a great insight, “is not outside a man, but within him”. And in a flash I realised that in my pursuit of that ONE life-altering adventure I was ignoring the many little things around me that were just as exciting. In hoping for a night where I would skirt danger, win millions of rupees and find the love of my life (sounds quite like a movie, I admit), I was overlooking the inherent adventure in living each day.

Adventure is indeed within each of us. While for some adventure may mean sky-diving or bungee jumping, for others jumping in and out of still-moving, over-crowded local trains of Mumbai is an equally exhilarating experience. While for some white water rafting or jet skiing provides the rushes, for many others riding in auto-rickshaws over Mumbai’s many potholes, weaving in and out of heavy traffic and the occasional sudden swerve is enough to set the adrenaline pumping. While for some rock-climbing and hiking doesn’t seem like an uphill task, many others would sweat simply at the prospect of attempting to cross the roads at one of Mumbai’s many chaotic junctions.

Adventure could mean many things for many people – adventure sports, a whirlwind romance, a leisurely walk in the dead of the night, a back-packing trip across Europe, watching the kids play, wedding preparations, a trip, the miracle of birth, waking up each morning…! Indeed, life itself is a rollercoaster (Ronan Keating!) and Adventure, the pursuit of life (Daniel Roy Wiarda)!

And so I reassess my definition of adventure – scrutinising every moment of my life that I have felt a thrill or when the butterflies in my stomach stirred to life or when the adrenaline pumped so hard that I could hear nothing else over the buzz in my ear. Where I once believed an anonymous Smart Alec when he/she said “If you're not living on the edge, you're taking up too much space”; I now adhere by Laurence Sterne’s philosophy that “A large volume of adventures may be grasped within this little span of life, by him who interests his heart in everything.”

So just to recapture some moments that I now consider “adventures” now…

• First Days – in a new class, at college, at work
• Flying – the butterflies in my stomach during take-off, flying over the hills and the seas and then sailing above clouds, to the beat my heart skips when the plane jerks a bit during the landing…
• Visiting a new place – a new city, suburb, or even just a restaurant
• The slumber parties where we would share secrets, have heart to heart chats, cry, giggle and scare each other with outlandish stories;
• Sitting at our “Haunt” with my gang of friends reliving “those days”…
• The numerous games of “Truth and Dare”!
• Walking in the rain in the wet fields and rescuing a stray dog – we later called “stormy”
• Being stranded thanks to the rains and the not-so-reliable public transport…
• The many exciting Girls Night Out
• Dancing like no one’s watching – all night in Goa or at parties, or even all alone at home…
• Jet Skiing and para-sailing at glistening beaches or Skiing in pristine snow…
• Roller Coaster rides – feeling your insides turn and screaming because that’s the only thing you are capable of doing then!
• Learning to ride the bicycle after numerous collisions into walls and tress and a thousand scrapes to the knee.
• Sitting behind the wheel of a car for the first time…
• The first ever scratch to the car!
• The numerous near-misses – getting hit by swings, sofas and stones and of course the boiling hot water that left me a rather fascinating mark on my left arm (serves as a constant reminder of which is left and which is right!);
• Crawling into dark corners and under thorny shrubs (where no one else dared for fear of snakes and other creepy crawlies) to retrieve the little rubber ball we played with.
• The stress of Exams, then relieving the stress by watching the corniest movies afterwards and the imminent results later…
• Sharing a smile, a compliment or even a conversation with a complete stranger!
• All the movies I’ve watched with friends – sitting in dark theatres or on comfortable sofas at home, with a bowl of popcorn and laughing at the silliest of comments!!
• The numerous efforts to cook a meal
• Watching a nail biting cricket match – hopefully one day it’ll be in a stadium…
• The silly feeling every time I discover a new Crush!

So, slow down.. stop to smell the roses and catch the beats of music and take every exciting moment of this adventure called LIFE!

Why i Write.......

When my feelings seem to overflow
And my ideas need a vent
That’s when I turn to writing -
A paper and pen seem heaven sent.

I write to make known my point of view -
I have one for everything
When I want to write my many opinions
A paper and pen truly are a blessing.

I put pen to paper when I discover something new
I doodle when I have nothing else to do
I scribble when with ideas I am brimming
I describe sights and sounds that I find exciting
I jot down my silly little rhymes
My poems aren’t so bad often times
I preserve in writing lines that inspire
Writing is my outlet when life’s a quagmire

I pen my thoughts
In hopes that some day
I’ll have my way
And write a novel with twists and turns and many plots
Writing is my hobby, my saviour, my lifeline
In Writing I lose myself
And it is in writing that I find the real Me…