Rama Moondra

“Does it affect you if some people talk ill or do not understand you?” Vikrant thinks, I belong to some other planet. At least not from Venus, he said smilingly, “You are not feminine at all.”

Now, that is debatable. What is feminine? If looking good is then I sure fall in presentable category if not beautiful. I can cook, maintain a home and career with impeccable balance and have a fleet of friends across globe, not to mention my public performances as well. (My Black Berry profile name is Superwoman and I write it with modesty included.)

I asked Vikrant the definition. “ Hmmm, those cry baby types. Need a shoulder to lean on to shed her tears. Men do not cry.” He replied tersely.

Very few occasions, I loose my patience with people. This was one though.

Leave alone the debate I had with him. I think, feminine is all about being sensitive, being mother (even if one has never delivered a child) and being caring and compassionate. I have been lucky to have some very feminine male friends and they are my treasures of Life.

Cheryl for his fun company, Abhi for his sensitivity, Sriram for being the most understanding pal I have for twenty two years  and Nitesh, who has to cry every time  since twelve years when I waive bye from London.

I think, most beautiful and sensuous part of a man is his feminine side. That’s where he is able to show woman his softness and sensibility and that’s where a relationship forms. I have seen my male friends cry like a baby and have saluted them for the comfort they have with themselves.

Its so important for a man to be able to weep. It is beyond gender. It is sheer courage to admit momentary weakness. It is also sure fire way to keep cardiac arrest away. Precisely the ratio of heart attacks differ so much.

So, my dear men, please be yourself, give in to your emotions and express.

Its just one life we all get and there is no gender bias in mayhem and doom,no masculine or feminine in  death’s invitation.

Dear Vikrant,

I write this for you and Siddhartha Sood. Both have sent me five mails asking the same question repeatedly … “Will Rama hold on?”

Honestly, I think, it depends on the signal I get from the other end as well. If the other half has moved on without mentioning my fault then I will think, his priority has changed or attraction has fizzled out. May be a chase is over and he must be on his next prowl now.

But if my faith on him is strong then I will hold on for a while till I hear from him. I will try to connect or send a message that I am waiting but give him enough space to move.

But if I never hear from him despite all the messages, I will understand that for him the game is over and for me the pain.

Vikrant, you want to know if it would hurt even a person like me. What did that mean ? I come across as a very strong person or heartless?

Well, to respond to Sid and Aniket now, yes, I have been hurt and (keep getting hurt like all normal humans do) may be that is exactly the place my strength has come from.

Days in and days out, I meet heartless, selfish and thankless people. They are biggest bliss in a way. They teach me to be nice to people despite rude, ruthless world as that’s the only thing which keeps  life moving on.

And trust me; I have hold on to relations and have failed. I have helped and got betrayed. And just when I am about to give up, there is a new hope, giving me enough reason to hold on to faith and courage.

So, yes…I will hold on till I hear from the other quiet half. If the war is between faith and lost hopes…I will hold on to my faith of a better morning. If it does not come back, it never was mine and then I won’t cry for something which did not belong to me.

I looked again at the stranger sitting in front of me. Good-looking and elegant Vikrant Agarwal wears a Rolex watch and Armani suit so it was easy to figure out his status.

He met me as a dedicated reader and decided to share his story. Perseverance personified Vikrant is very easy to get along with.

He was detected with HIV + a few years ago. It takes ten years to become an AIDS patient, he was assured. Life has not been easy ever since.

Vikrant is fighting with himself now. He met with an accident on highway and was given blood transfusion. It all started after that. The most remarkable part of his life is his girlfriend who still is with him trusting him completely though she moved on for two years without giving him a chance to explain.

Vikrant broke down completely but never broke up with her. He kept messaging, writing and even calling but all went unanswered. One fine day, she knocked back and duo is happy with each other with complete trust and love blossoming out of it.

“You know its power of holding on. If you love someone, you simply hold on and keep space for the other person to walk in. That’s what relationship is all about.”

Why we all try to hold on whereas all preaching talks about letting go? My dedicated reader Dessert Wanderer says, at times we hold on not because we want to, but because we don’t want the other person to regret later on, of not finding us where the person left us. Of giving in to his temporary madness of wanting to move away, push us away. We hold on not because we have too much faith in ourselves, but because we don’t want the other person to be proven wrong for his faith in us.

“Wont you hold on if someone has moved, giving a second chance?” Vikrant looked into my eyes straight. I smiled. I will, till my faith permits me to. Sometimes holding on is not about self. It is about believing twice the amount you used to, in absence of the other halves because they are struggling with their faith for time being. So hold on so that things can be back the way they were or even better after some time.

And as I always believe, I will do what my 50% is and retaining the 50% of the relation is other person’s job too. After all, my faith on them is on stake as well. In that process, if someone looses me, the loss is of the other half. I lost someone who did not care and he lost someone who did care with heart and soul intact.

To Vikrant, for his faith and courage…may god lights up his path always.

(With permission of using real name.)

At the temple, there is a poem called “Loss”, carved into the stone. It has three words…but the poet has scratched them out. You cannot read “Loss”… Only feel it.

Sayuri ( Memoirs of Geisha )

I tried calling the number again but in vain. Steve has not picked up my calls since a few days. I am really worried but also a part of me is very sad. Does it mean end of the relationship? Does it mean it’s over? Have I lost him? Are he and I not getting last chance to mend? (Please read Trail of the Dead to know Steve.)

Loss is such a sad word in vocabulary of human being. We all loose so much…hopes, faith, beliefs, love and relationships but yet life continues.

Why so? I think hope keeps us alive…hope to get lost ones back…hope to reconstruct and fight and hope to regain what we think we as human race deserve.

So, it lets us rebuild Kutch after the earthquake .It lets us fight tsunami in Japan and it lets us fight terror in all forms in every country.

But it hurts so much when you see a person changing, not responding, a relationship getting over, an exit interview with heavy heart…it makes us bleed through nose feeling unjustified.

If a relation of any form has given us pleasure once then the share of pain has to be ours too. We just cannot take the best and walk away with it.

I personally feel only lucky people loose someone, or something. As Cheryl, my treasured friend says, to experience loss you need to experience being wanted.  Experience giving. Experience receiving. Experience owning. Experience LOVE.

The choice is ours to make. To live with memories of loss, or to live with memories of Love. Every stone has a soft, breakable point in it. Thats where the poetry starts from. New leaves come out of nowhere in a building’s windowsill and thats life blooming in hardship all over again.

To a dedicated reader BD with a silent prayer, I share his pain of to reel under memories and yet not respond to loved one..

” Can I come to see you?” Meenaxi’s voice was shaky. I had 14 hours working and a dinner to attend. So, I suggested Sunday. “That will be late may be. I feel like killing myself.”

I asked her to come over and was zapped to see the real person. She stood embarrassed yet determined. She works with a famous Bank on a good post. I have met her before though did not know till she came over.

“What would you do if you were me?” I could not reply as I was shivering with anger after seeing bruises on her arms and bared back. I gathered myself with courage.

“Why do you take so much from him?” The reply shook me even more than her bruises. “I love him. Think it will be better one day. But what would you do, please tell me. I have great regards for you and want you to advice.”

What a spineless love it could be. If I was Meenaxi, I would leave .I will make three people happy in that case. To top it all, I would never take physical assault. People give you abuse because you take it, that’s my firm believe. No one does anything for anyone. Everyone including parent and child relationship has a give and take. No wonder,most parents try to impose themselves on children.

There is nothing like selfless love. People do not leave a stinking relation because they are too afraid of being termed as a looser. It is that fear of labeled failure that makes loads of Meenaxis take so much yet remain in a trance of false hope.

I did not suggest anything to her. She knows what she has to do but sure I would want my readers to opine on this.

“What would you do?”

My reader Meenaxi Joshi called up last evening. “This is for your blog. My story.” I am just a narrator today.

Married in a rich business oriented family Meenaxi had seen her husband coming late night every day. Once she heard about his extramarital affair and confronted him. The reply was cold and dry with an acceptance of the fact.

Meenaxi kept reeling under this pain and tried pretending normal in front of children and society. (Same old story)

But one day she took a drastic decision as she got fed up of his late nights. Usually drunk and tired he would come home and sleep.

She brought the other girl home. The society knows her as Meenaxi‘s cousin and only the trio knows the reality. The apparently happy marriage is on.

One year has passed by and Meenaxi is still struggling to make situation look better, her husband to understand Meenaxi’s sacrifice and the other woman to get over and go.

“Have I done a right thing? At least he is home early and kids get to see him. Will it be better one day?”

Wish, I was a fortune teller to be able to answer that. But why women go up to any extent to maintain a bad marriage? Are men not responsible for children as much?

I will leave this question to my precious readers today.

(Name changed to protect identity.)

If wealth could be measured by friends then my brother and I are richest people on planet earth.

Trip to Hyderabad is always refreshing as that’s where my family lives but this time it was special. I have been a pampered guest with my brother’s friends always and showered with utmost care and affection.

My brother from another mother Yogesh bhaiya arranged an evening in Kibbeh Lounge and over Arabian platters we kept sharing laughter and good times.

That evening had two heartwarming incidents for me. We were to go to Praful and Bela’s home post lounge as they could not join but eventually landed at Yogesh bhaiya’s home.

The evening went melodious with Narendra’s rich,velvety voice. One of the most heartening events to watch was my niece sleeping on his lap. It warmed my heart to see him singing “So Jaa ghar ke Ujiyare So Jaa.” and she slept.

Meanwhile everyone kept messaging and calling Bela to come over. It was 1.30 am and I knew they won’t come so I expressed myself.  Everyone snapped at once,” They will come.” The faith was unshakeable. The door bell rang at 2.15 am. The frenzy was maddening …everyone singing,” Tere jaisa yaar kahan..” The gang turned to me,” See! We told you, they will come.”

That’s what faith of   friendship is all about. Even if whole world disowns you, you can count on this relation which says I know you will come.

May Cronies(The gang’s name) friendship see eternities…

To Praful and Narendra’s soulful voices and to cronies’ anthem ….

“ Char baj gaye lekin party abhi baaki hai..”

I hung up phone and sat quiet for a while. It was from an unknown reader Anaya.

“Can you tell me why best of relationship goes sour? Why one person stops talking to you even without telling you what went wrong? Unwanted break up hurts so much.” Her voice was weepy.

I am still thinking about it. Why? Well, one reason for sure is that relationships do not come with guarantee cards. So, when a relation is so much of fun to be with initially and one fine day, one of them walks off without bidding goodbye.. reasons can be several.

I personally believe that a relationship starts changing face before it ends. The person stops giving the similar attention, moves on, suddenly gets very busy etc.

Women are weak in catching such signals. At the same time, they are a bit poor in change management of intense relations. (I am firm believer that the intensity of hurt from break up depends on who has finished it. If a man has given to a woman then his intensity is lesser because in his mind it got over much before or vice-versa.)

So, reasoning break up is difficult as that’s person specific but sure it’s not unwanted. One of them wanted to end it and that one person is half decision maker of that relation. Why does the other half mistakes or cannot let it go?

It pains to fail. Failing a relation of any form is a silent message that “you are not good for me.”

My take is only this. The word is compatibility.If you are not good for one person, may be you will be amazing partner for someone else. Whether it’s a job, love, friendship, time-pass ..The formula remains the same.

Open your heart for someone else and let it heal. Change is only permanent truth of life.

I still stand firm that if it goes away, it was not yours even to begin with. Can you cry on something which belongs to someone else?

For Cheryl and his quote,” How can you not know? You are fifty percent of that relationship.”

Standing next to a crowded crossing of Hyderbad, I watched the endless traffic. “Cross silly. Waiting for Christmas?” Saraswati almost shouted. We have just met a month before in Ahmedabad and decided to share a coffee in Hyderabad ,a city which is my second home and her first.

“You gotta be quick..my friends are not slow types.” it began with this note and ended up on me getting up and paying for coffee to bid goodbye earlier than I thought.

I kind of get tired of getting comparative advices. (Mind you, all unsolicited ones.). I think we all get them in loads.

Some people suffer from “Sudharomania.”(My coined term for a disease which means I need to correct (Sudharo) entire world.)

My life is full of this variety somehow. Being in people oriented profession; I need more patience to deal with people all the time, all kinds. So I keep smiling on,” get married, loose weight, buy one more house and invest in shares, make an organization, increase your business,…” the list is endless. I need to do what in my profession, what in personal life; everything is served to me on a platter.

Sometimes, it leaves me wondering,” In whose comparison?”  I need to lose weight or gain, I need a new car or not, who decides that and where is the comparative scale? Most of the times, someone who comments know hardly anything about me. But they need to advice, (some self fulfilling prophecy.)

I have an acquaintance who has comment for everything I do or don’t. (Never an appreciative one though.) Surprised or does it sound familiar?

So, next time when you feel like giving a pearl of your unsolicited wisdom to someone, think, has that person asked for it? Trust me, there are too many people crowding this arena.

And if someone like me gets over with patience, the reply is even terser than the comment. “You need to be weighing much lesser. Overweight you are.” Came from a well-wisher client and I snapped,” In whose comparison?” The silence was expected. I continued,” See, my target is to look like African masaimara women. I want to look like 125 kgs so I think; I am most underfed, ill nourished woman.”

I left him zapped (unhappy) though. Why do I need to explain fitness or fit versus lean etc?

Is it necessary to keep advising or does it come from deep rooted inferiority when you secretly want to match the person you are giving advice to. Time to introspect may be or reply to others if needed.

To Deepak Parihar, One person I know who never gives any unsolicited advice and I treasure him for that.

Last year my dear friend Neil had called up to spend summers in Europe and I had refused. Summers are just too good in India, I told him.

I shared it with Abhi and Suzanne this afternoon, Suzanne could not help laughing. She mentioned again that I should have gone to U.K. by now.

“Silly woman. If I had half of friends that you have, I would have gone like thunder light”. Her boyfriend and my dear friend Abhi nods. Working in Media by accident and guitarist by choice, Abhi is critic of Ahmedabad heat as he has one more association with Italy now, other than pasta and pizza. Sitting under a gulmohar tree loaded with flowers of red color, I adored the colors nature gives us for every season. I could not let her ignore the beauty of Indian summer.

I decided to give the Mumbai and Italian fusion couple the best of Ahmedabad. The first stop was at ice-gola. If you have not eaten gola in Ahmedabad at Chandu’s, you have not known “Nirvana” in life. (Trust me). Suzanne was really scared of ice first but got hooked to eating the chilled syrupy heaven on earth served in platter. Her eyes were wide open in excitement. “Hmmmmmm” continued for a while.

The next was fresh Alfonzo mango platter served on a bed of malai kulfi. Both of them were licking through their fingers. Malai kulfi is so creamy that it runs on your fingers in no time.

“Do you want to eat fresh kiwi and watermelon?” Stuffed till nose, this was postponed for next visit. Winding off with chilled lassi, the couple was smile till ears.

“So, summers in India?” Suzanne nodded yes with her mouth stuffed with “Paan”.

I smiled ears to ears this time. I know how synthetic ‘fresh’ mangoes taste abroad and how tasteless “Shorbet” are when it comes to drinking chilled lassi.Slush can never match golas and creamiest Ice-cream fails when it comes to Kulfi.

Love Indian summers.