Rama Moondra

The movie may have attracted mixed response at theatres but overall delivers a great message. I believe that anything or everything has a message but it depends on us, when and how we take it.

I liked the movie for two basic reasons. One that I like both leads i.e. Deepika and Neil but second reason is more obvious and pertinent. The way love has been projected in the movie is beautiful.

Two scenes that caught my attention had a silent but painful demonstration of love and guilt of a male counterpart. Deepika becomes blind because of Neil’s mistake. She tries to walk without support, gets rejected by her dance partner and from the world too. Trying to learn to walk without any support and blind, she keeps falling and hurting herself. Neil silently stands behind her and bitten by guilt, he tries to catch but resists every time. His guilt and helplessness is projected very well.

Second time, a seasoned skate dancer, Deepika, hurt by reality that Neil was the reason, decides to perform alone on stage which was supposed to be a duet. It was her biggest exam in a way. She starts, moves flawlessly but since solo is not counted, just when she was about to be rejected, Neil enters. Swiftly, he glides next to her. Not holding her even if it was meant to be, not touching her, not consoling her, not even giving a hint of his presence, he shadows her.

She realizes his presence and the dance of love is complete then. They win as love always does.

Sometimes, even when we think, love has left us wounded and alone, all it needs is a little re-assurance of the other person’s shadow. It makes a difference to know that you make a difference in some one’s world.

Today’s blog is for struggle and victories, to hope and belief and to life once again.

Let life happen to you .Just feel it.

Cross cultural sensitivity is a major issue across globe. My clients who deal globally are the poor sufferers. Sometimes, I pity the kind of situation senior bosses get into.

Yesterday, sitting in an American client’s office, we were discussing some of the topics about communication training. “Can I get some examples of their communication gaps?” I asked the person in charge. I must have touched a wrong chord. The music which flew kept grating on my ears.

One of the incidents is narrated as it is. The American client was completely put off with the vendor in dealing. “Buddy I am desperate now and giving up. Go, kiss my A**…” The phone was banged on the other side.

My little lamb, the Indian counterpart burst in to laughter. Then he got up and happily informed his boss about the client being a gay and the reason he wants to deal with him is understood. He gleefully spoke about his charm and how even an American guy, oops gay will succumb to it and feel desperado.

Readers can very well imagine the desperation of senior. I immediately called my colleague to introduce even on phone. Knew it will provide some solace to otherwise hurting and a**…under fire.

I have to wish luck to my colleague now. “May god give him patience and a colder one (you know what) throughout the training.

Today, it’s raining cats and dogs in my city. Back home after six days, it feels good though still it sends a shiver down my spine. Seen a friend suffering very badly and almost nearing fatal end, she survived back.

Doory lane of my memory archives opens up a closed curtain today. A black silk satin curtain of not so rosy memory of a rainy evening. Back in 2005, I was walking back home in London. Canary wharf is a beautiful area near Thames River and I have been lucky to be able to stay there. Suddenly, I heard a faint cry. Turned around to see but could not locate anyone. It was getting dark and covered by famous London smog (smoke and fog), I increased my speed. The faint cry was louder this time. I could not avoid the sound. Looked around in nearby bushes this time to be shocked and awestruck. A newborn baby was kept. Still alive and struggling.

I picked up the child, shocked; I shouted aloud ” Whose baby is this?” My shouts went unanswered.  I just was not able to believe, it is a country where single motherhood though looked down upon, is still not condemned. Why would someone leave a newborn child in such a weather to die?

My hands slipped through the baby and I shivered. The umbilical cord was freshly cut may be. I rushed as fast as possible carrying the baby to the nearby hospital. It took me half hour to complete entire walk and though I tried to reach the hospital in time, I was late. God called the baby back to him. May be the world would have been too cruel to little one.

I took a long time to let this incident go of my system. Sometimes, some memories leave permanent scars even if time is best healer. A recent incident has triggered a lot again and my heart blesses all those unborn who do not see this merciless world.

This is dedicated to all those fathers who disown a would be mother, forgetting that it takes two to make a baby and having an illegitimate child is not only woman’s fault.

Today my blog is mere dictation of someone else. It’s story of a stranger  woman and her unborn child. She bumped into me in course of life. Many people do so; probably I did not notice her much. Until last week…

She talked to me about her and what I am writing today is a request to readers to pray for her happiness. She witnessed betrayal in her marriage. Strong and not giving up, she walked out and started working. Slowly she gained strength back in her wings to fly gain. Life was passing by and with no major complaints and nothing to look forward to either; she lived happily with her limited means.

It just happened as a strange coincidence that, years later, when she had forgotten how to love, she met someone who she took instant liking for. The man was happily married and a father too. She fell for him knowingly and maybe due to her loneliness, she gave in herself completely. I am sure it sounds like third category Bollywood romance flicks with predictable end but one cannot justify a few emotional decisions.

The man decided to go back to his marriage though he was never out of it. Left alone with a weeping heart and understanding her position, she tried collecting pieces of life again. But then, fate had something else in store. Just when she understood, everything was over between them, she figured out she was pregnant. Only a miracle could do this and that had happened.

Her dream is still unfulfilled though. Detected by Ectopic pregnancy, which is life threatening for both, she is now reeling under Dr’s decision to let go and her battle of keeping it. I am sure, god will be her side in whatever happens and time will heal her wounds. Sometimes, letting go is not as easy as told to.

 I prayed for her. May god gives her what she deserves. Because I believe, life gives us what we deserve and not what we desire. If my readers can pray for her, may be god has more votes to decide it in her favor.

I leave it to god almighty and to you to pray. That’s all is needed.

 I listen to my heart more than my head.True! I mean it. Long ago, I realized, I am more emotional and less logical. (Though I know, if my boss reads it, he would disagree) Being emotional gave me a lot of anger and resentment too but emotions make the world a better place to live. They penetrate me through various means. A drop of tear on someone else’s cheeks, A cute child meeting first time in a shop and making friends with me, A blind girl marrying another physically challenged person, A rain-filled weekend and missing my loved ones, the last friend in the town migrating leaving a feeling of dullness, the list is endless.

With life showering rain and sunshine with shades of grey and gold interwoven, I have grown up as a mature woman outside. In this materialistic world out liars, white liars and cheaters are in abundance, insensitive people and advantage taking in name of charity and breaking my trust is a routine, I still have managed to keep a portion of my heart intact, not immune though I wished it to be so.

I have given money to people knowing it would never come back, I help people who cheat and I have been good to many who in turn have embarrassed me. But I still continue to be same. “Why” -Because, I do not want a single genuine person getting crucified because other nine betrayed. I think it is sin to do so.

 And life has ways to pay back. I have been blessed by great assignments, loving family and friends in every corner of world but what makes it worth listening from heart is, I have received help from unbelievable sources just when I needed,. Every time when a dark corner lights up, I know a prayer is answered. Someone somewhere has prayed for a loved one.

 And god listens from heart to heart just as love does.

Honestly, if you watch this one, you will end up hating all kind of Love stories. I did not think of this flick at the first place. So, I had turned down a close friend already. But Ashish does not take” No” for an answer. Saturday night show happened just out of blue. (Left me blue after that).

Imran is not a lover boy Bolly wood can take pride in. Sonam has advantage of being born as Star -daughter. She has nothing apart from that. The movie has all past dialogues of Shahrukh Khan, distorted by a TV artist. Long ago, Videocon had launched PIP TV. Picture in Picture is what this boring choking stuff has.

The first half makes you sit through in anticipation of,” something new might come up.” By the time one sees Intermission written on screen, one gears up for another predictable love story. I probably would have done away with that. The repetitive dialogues coupled up with same number played endlessly during hero moping through his doleful late realization were not enough to kill.  The hero going on crazy aka Devdas did. (Why do not men in Hindi fillums grow up?) Our teenagers do.

 Can someone tell me where to find a man the ways Bollywood lovey-dovey are?  Travelling continents and proposing the way only 1920′s heroes did.  And I think any sane woman will dislike a man going on his knees with drop of a hat every time he sees her. But our cine star women are known to be no brainers.

My patience ended before movie did. On my way out, silently, I paid my tribute to Yash Chopra. He gave Rishi Kapoor and Shahrukh Khan, best lover boys to Indian women.

. The write up is for my dear Bosseeebee. He likes watching movies and plays, though through my lenses. If not anything, it brings a smile worth the movie tickets.

Ashish, thanks for standing by all thick and thins. Also such movies.

Standing in my verandah, I felt raindrops falling on my open palms. I travelled back in time zone.

 I still remember running out from my home to pouring sky as a child. My mother would be scared of me slipping and breaking my bones. Don’t think it ever occurred to me as danger ever in those days. My friend and next door neighbor Jessica used to get freshly baked banana loaf and under a pouring tree, for years together we sat and ate trying to save it from raindrops.  Like many children, I too made paper boats and prayed for them not to sink before Joyen and Jessica’s boats.

  Life has moved on and made me the person I am  today.  I am a grown up,successful  professional now.

Surprisingly, I still stop by a bakery sometime to feel the fresh aroma of banana loaf on a rainy day.

I broke my bones badly but not to rainy evening. It does not sound dangerous even now. I know how it feels.

And I still pray for my boat to sail through life. The only thing different now, the boat is of glass. Fragile but immune to disturbing winds and rainstorm.

So this evening, when a friend whose car was running on his dreams and Maruti’s goodwill without fuel, asked me to pray for him to reach safely, I did. I knew his would be heard ,not mine. Mine was”" Wish I could still go back to the paper boat days. Glass boat is scary.”"

Long ago, I read somewhere.”It’s never too late to seek a newer world.” Today, when my heart is under a painful clout of losing two very special people, this quote is even more relevant.

We all grieve on loss.  Whether humans or materialistic possessions, attachment is our pride possession. It may sound another philosophical sermon but if I go to treasure trove of my memories, it falls in place. Our attachment of retaining a special thing or person is so much that we stop seeing beyond it.

Sometimes, we do not even realize that the relationship was long gone. It was out of our life the day that person decided to move on. Mental distance from a person should be good enough signal to figure out but we develop a slavish devotion. Especially if the person involved is close to one’s heart. If my ex boss decides to quit mid way of life’s journey or Nick opening his air belt in mid of the jump..does not matter. They moved on much before saying  “I Quit.”

So, what should be the way out?  Man, my dear friend, sent me a mail sharing my grief; some of his thoughts are mixed with mine.

Along the lines somewhere I have chosen to believe that the ones we love never leave us. They reside in our heart, in a special place, that cannot change.  No matter what the distance.  Ahmedabad to London… or this world to the other. DISTANCE DOES NOT MATTER. As long as we do not let it matter.  The moment we believe that they are GONE from our lives, we make that distance count.

At another level – grief – yes…. because I would not be able to seek and enjoy their physical proximity – voice, smile, touch as and when we have the chance to meet and greet.  It has ended and there my grief ends because I know; every beginning has an end too.

Does that sound too far-fetched? Maybe it is.  Maybe it is not.

It was unusual of Bernie, my friend from London days to call up at middle of night. “A muffed voice was on the other side.” Our Nick is no more. We lost him in air jump”…I just could not figure out what it meant. I had lost my precious, now ex, boss a day before to destiny and  just twenty four hours.

“You are drunk. It can’t be our Nick.” But by that time my heart had lost its beat and faith .Nick is no more. Sitting quiet, my memories did not leave my heart alone. Nick named me “Marble Princess.”  My first scuba dive had left a major cut on my feet and bleeding through it, I continued my swim. Some who does not cry was marble according to him.

 Nick was my adventure sports coach and became a great pal after that. I would just keep pulling his legs for having new girlfriend every time. “A man’s heart is too big for one woman alone.” He would laugh out. My trips to Europe were incomplete without meeting him. We travelled miles at times to be at a common place just for a few hours, share our sides of world and wine.

Little did I know when I met him recently, I would never see him again. Life gives us rudest shocks. Just when you feel, you have all your priceless possessions of friends and loved ones in place, they go away. Without giving a chance at times to express, to celebrate, to regret, to clarify. All that is left, unsaid stories and expressions with a sense of void which can’t be filled. Remorse untold.

 Human beings are irreplaceable and so are some relations. They are just too special. How I wish, I could recreate some part of my life and ask some people to stay back at any cost.

Right now, when I am physically down with high fever and painful foot, Nick’s first coaching comes to hold my hand, “The intensity of pain is decided by your reaction to it. Make friends with pain. That’s only truth we live with.”

Nick, I will live with your loss and my other friends too. I have made friends with it.

On my knees, in front of god almighty, with tears in my prayers I bid goodbye to departed ones. After a long time, these words are dedicated to my ex boss and Nick. Two people, whose memories are now part of my internal and spiritual wealth,

May peace prevails.

“I am going to miss my sweet sixteen” That was a remark from a very very young friend who just entered seventeenth year of his life. “Age matters”. He said resembling the sound of earth cracking under his feet because of Herculean burden he has.

  “Damn! Five hours now, he said again, I could not help smiling. Those who are wondering what it’s all about; it is getting a blackberry on his 17^th birthday.” Hmmm! You will get it soon.” I tried consoling in vain.

 Nothing worked. How possibly it could when the aspirations were of latest gizmo and gift was old pearl model. He did not show up in class next day. Third day, the new gizmo was flashing in his hand.

 Convincing parents to get the children expensive jazzy techs- tool is easy. It helps others to know the financial strata they come from. It also initiates a feeling of envy around which is worth the money paid for.

 My take on this situation differs as usual. Children label parents who choose not to buy such stuff “middle class”. The sense of mockery is too high among teenagers.  A friend of mine just shifted his children to grandparents and admitted them in a small place of MP. Irritated wife and weepy kids, nothing helped in altering the decision. He has a conviction of children being spoilt here.

 Why cannot we as guardians and parents tell and share with children the value of money. Children learn budgeting from us. The level of life does not come only from money but a lot from values inculcated. There is nothing wrong in admitting where one stands in financial capacity. Children understand parents much better that way.

 Future lies ahead of us, we cannot build it on false impressions and frustrated self condemns.