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.

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.

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.

Kishore Biyani ,CEO of Future group and V.G. Siddhartha , Chairman of Amalgamated Bean coffee café chain, have tied up  possibly to bring another private label  in otherwise state wise culture sensitive Indian coffee market. This will be retailed across Big Bazaar and Food Bazaar besides CCD outlets.

State wise India differs the way coffee is looked upto. Gujarat essentially is tea drinking state and West Bengal too.Southern part of country has too many small but popular (read affordable) local brands.

  I have a view from the windowsill. The coffee label is still going to be CCD so there is no possibility of re-positioning the brand. However, Mr. Siddhartha is largest individual coffee plantation owner in Asia; CCD is not known for great coffee. 

 The recent re-branded CCD is yet to show up and sink in.It is yet to get a tag of YUP thingies. Young Urban Professionals look forward to jazzy places like Costa Coffee, Gloria Jean’s to make an impression, or even if it is budgeted affair, the old conventional places win easily. Every city has them with silent music of nostalgia playing in the background.

 I am yet to see CCD hygiene standard matching an up class market segment. The menu hardly offers anything excitingly new. Most of the times service is drab and jaw clenching for a restless person like me.

 To build it the way it is dreamt to be, India needs a culture of coffee drinking and brand positioning of the label has to be better. Starbucks probably is the best example so far ,of a dream come true empire’s  rise and plateau hit. Nevertheless, hope that Kishore Biyani’s usual Midas touch laced with great strategy works here too.

 “It happens only in India.”

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To me. Summer is a season of joy. I am sure, not many would agree to this. When you are an inch close to being gone and burnt to ashes given to forty-six degrees of heat, my statement may sound either contemplation of a vacation or a neurotic heat disorder.

 Trust me it is neither. It is another blissful way of “Hopelessly optimistic” my school of thought.

 And why not? Which other season brings you the sheer pleasure of eating mangoes for dinner? The juicy-fruity watermelons and oranges in amazing colorful hue  remind me of life yet to be lived is going to be similar. Colorful and sweet.

 The prizewinner is of course, Ice –Golas. Read them slush if you wish to but let me confess, nights after nights walking near River Thames in London, sitting next to River Sean in Paris and eating orange slush with friends in both places in so called summers, I have longed to be back home and eat real Ice gratings dipped in fragrant rose syrup.

 A few things in life do not change and thank heaven for small mercy. Summers have not changed and so is my attraction of bounty it brings.No wonder, when I got a call from my dear friend Neil to be back in the summertime in Europe, he stated,” Mad or what, summer in India?” my reaction was,” Mad or what, summer in India.”

 Where else…

 I am a graduate of  hopelessly optimistic school of thought . Rewarding and hectic work schedule, friends across globe and a supportive family, I could not have asked for more.

Nevertheless, I see a lot of pain around me as a therapist. Recently I met a woman who has been through a very bad marriage, was asked to leave her home when she was three months pregnant. Shattered but brave as she was, she moved on to US, did her masters and came back to India to work. A strong urge to prove the world wrong and she right brought her back in the same city.  Though meditation and her own conviction made a positive difference in her life , unknowingly she blocked herself to most precious gift god has for humans.

She sealed her heart for love, as she believed it makes a person weaker. She never shared her pains as she did not want to look naive. 

 Her success makes her peers jealous and her career graph is to die for at her age. However, love is elusive still. She is scared of it, she is afraid of pain it may bring. She would run away if any relation faintly seems like attachment.It takes a lot to open heart to strangers and trust . She tried it and got burnt again.

 Years of loneliness and no sharing has made her absolute quiet person from within. “When did you weep last?” I asked her.” Never in last 10 years.” She said hesitatingly. I empathize this. It requires courage to share, to weep and to admit vulnerability.

  Though I respect men  and believe that they too make this world worth living, sometimes my heart bleeds for such women. (No wonder, I adore Rekha, Sushmita and Dimple).

This evening, with a heavy heart I pray for all lonely souls to be able to live life again. Life does not begin or end with one person. They have to remember it every time while saying good-byes.

 To, every woman who bared her soul to this world to live on her terms.

Let there be light and peace.