It's my hair !

i actually don't get it. i mean i am one year through and yet what i get from people is just warnings of all kinds about this city and especially the people that make this city. The most frequent being." Be cautious X Y Z is a pucca Dalhite..." At first it didn't strike what it meant and later during the day it brainstormed suddenly that Dalhite stood for Delhiite.(Pucca-colloquial meaning strictly/purely)
Puzzled and clueless and am wondering if stereotyping pertains only to people or can it be extended to cities too or is it the cities inhabited by a certain genre that gets stereotyped???

i must admit that sometimes the warnings do get to you. Enough to make you prejudiced and biased but once you become quiet with nothing but your thoughts talking to you then you question and later reject the stereotyping because then you are just influenced by your own analysis in which the quiet words are honest too.
i tried to keep myself to myself and not be overtly social. And i didn't even have to try hard because just like so many i was just too busy to find time for socializing. Also i had my self inflicted projects...the looking forward to projects that kept me away from the people in the housing society which i inhabit today.

But ' The People' have made their foray into my homemaker-with new personal project every alternate day -busy life.
i don't feel irritated but yes i do confess that i'm skeptical about the newness of this association.

Why the skepticism???
For one thing i feel that today to be recognized in this Whose What World you got to be Something. Nobody is interested in you if you are a NOBODY.
i actually prided in being a nobody because it made me so unique. No credentials to flaunt, no extra talent and heavens! no moolah either to exhibit in various forms ie through clothes...cars...accessories...blah blah.
And i won't say that i was happy, extremely happy at being my own Nobody self because at times i did crave for COMPANY.

Now the desire looks apparently and somewhat fulfilled because i have been granted that title finally.

A Somebody .
i get greetings and acknowledgement with the most warm smiles and of late some are even vying with each other to have me visit their rich cloisters.
Cloisters!! well that's another story and i'd rather stick about this that i am enjoying right now.
So now i'm a Somebody who knows much and hence in demand.

My skepticism is more about myself than any other because deeply inside i know that soon enough all shall be divulged and i shall retire to my NOBODY cloister of my own.

Apart from the other somebody attributes, of late i am being approached for the color and texture of my hair.
 In this post i shall let myself gloat over the fact that ' The People' have an eye for uniqueness even when you are the nobody.
So all these new friends who in my society have finally decided to grace my living room with their presence were not whimsical after all. Looking for an excuse to satisfy their curiosity and all. i do recognize that when they asked me about the hair color they actually meant it.

Ooh la la...so it's my hair!!
Lemmme! lemmme first look at my hair now...that which has also made me famous.

To me i don't see any reason for not gloating on account of all that impression because only i know how my hair looked originally had i not treated it naturally. And sure i shall share this secret but later. Right now i want to emphasize also that in my attempt to narrate i am not trying to ridicule anything or anyone.

 i am just puzzled with this concept called Delhiite. Now i am in this city and i don't know how long i shall remain here but is it a matter of time when i shall be a Delhiite too???

Well for all the good reasons i would love to be a  Delhiite because i am beginning to admire the place for all that it's giving me. Sure a comfortable life with good facilities and lovely people too.

As for the rest i think some attributes are as universal as our feelings. And just like feelings each place has it's own uniqueness, it's own pace and it's own rhythm. i have for the last 21 years savored the Bharatnatyam  and i am eager to get into the Bhangra beat as well.  i can definitely choose my own pace but i wish people stop warning me all the time. My friends of yore, my husband and what is shocking as well as puzzling is from the inhabitants of this place themselves who have been here before partition and also from those after partition. Why are these people always warning me???

Talk about being curious-isn't it universal ?

Talk about being opportunistic- is it just endemic to a particular place??

Talk about being Vain- show me any who isn't.The degree may vary but aren't we helpless against Vanity???

Talk about flaunting- i got one valuable lesson even when it was from facebook- everybody is alive and kicking when it comes to flaunting even those who reside in the remote corners of the world and could just be as common as crow- as if the mantra for the day is PPPY. Project Protray Popularise Yourself. 

Finally as for the ostentation part  i think once anyone got the moolah to afford everyone tries to emulate what the rich and famous wear or how they live. Not everyone is Warren Buffet. Okay the degrees may vary but then i question myself that if i had the amount of dough to afford would i be satisfied with a small bare essential cottage or will i go for a villa with a pool and others the answer that i get confirms my belief in grapes are sour story.

As for Sucrew for screw, Sapring for spring an Parak for park i find it rather just too cute and comfortable and am often using it myself for the ease it gives my tongue and lips. i mean the words in English require more finesse in speaking and most eligibility than you can ever imagine because if you ask for wautur very few waiters will bring water for you and might say," Sorry maam we don't have that dish here".  The last time i said that the paar has gone i was begged pardon thrice until i had said paavur. (power)

Also when i had asked for the Pears soap i was denied at not one but three grocery stores when finally the gentleman (God Bless him for he understood) at the counter asked me-" Kya apko glycerine wali pierce sabun chahiye??" (Do you want the Glycerined Pierce soap???)

And God should bless me now that i have understood it too...how twisting words in English can be.

As for my hair color and texture i was approached by some friends in fact many even in Chennai. How can i forget the big plastic disposable boxes that i used to carry to school to distribute willingly and kindly to all my colleagues who had pleaded for my hair recipe. That's another story which shall be divulged in my next post that none could ever get that texture and color because trust me some things are all but natural. Although my recipe in those disposable boxes were as original as me and i used it and still do regularly once a week. Even today for this week as i sit to click click another exhaustive post.

Sure i am the cat right now and let me be in this good feeling for sometime that it's my hair for the time being. And i hope it's something else later...no not for recognition or fame but for the sake of companionship. Life can get very lonely at times and if some good soul even when she is a pucca Delhiite approaches me and wants to be friends with me then what's the harm!.

Wishing that the warnings should cease for me to savor the new mood in life and to be ready enough to face the consequences if and when it should happen it's time for me to call it the quits. Not that i'm expecting consequences but i've had enough experiences bitter and sweet about forging relationships but that should not stop me in any way should it?  i will like my hair continue to grow.

In any case i shall be back soon with more of my hair saga...the added bonus being the recipe for my hair which gets it's color naturally!

Mixed Feelings

i read or heard somewhere, perhaps in one of the Rumi http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rumi songs that God turns you from one feeling to another and teaches by means of opposites, so that you can have two wings to fly. The song also talked about gratitude.
And i am searching for an apt explanation to some opposites i am faced with.
Is it possible to feel gratitude and yet feel burdened at the same time?
To feel happiness in what you have received and not enjoy the moment to the full extent or sufficiently enough?

i was not expecting her at all that morning because i was aware of her holiday with her two sons. First in Amsterdam and then in Dubai. She was to touch base only in July.
When she rang the bell with a package in her hands i was just too preoccupied with my husband's breakfast. She was embarrassed by her unwitting intrusion and took out her tongue, a gesture which looked apologetic , '' Sry to have disturbed you when u r busy..."
i couldn't contain my surprise and asked her, ''Weren't you supposed to leave yesterday?
Hastily depositing what she had brought in the package for me and explaining the reason which was a rather anxious one, she left.

The package that she gifted felt like i was holding a just born infant. Even more because i could see what it contained. And for some time it lay daintily where i had put it till i was free enough to read, to assimilate how i was supposed to be with my suddenly dropping out of nowhere fragile and oh! such a wonderful bundle of joy.

 

This bundle had arrived  Fresh From - Holland i read. AVIFLORA...must be the florist i mused. Saw the graphics of all that Holland is famous for.

 i  have always identified Holland through some of these. Windmills and flowers, Cheese and dairy products, Canals and pointy roofs and definitely the CLOGS.

Was not aware of the others like the marine life as the graphics on the package depicted. Also was clueless about the horse drawn carriage.  

Thus i progressed precociously and patiently in the unwrapping as not to injure anything not even the wrappings...for the wraps were not one but three. Had to be...

But before reaching my bundle of joy i had to go through the feeding instructions. i had never handled such before and there was no one around me to guide me but these that came along with my bundle. 

It provided me with step by step instructions and diagrams about the weaning.

Finally with bated breadth i laid my eyes on the face.

Slowly and carefully i let my sight take in more...

Then the whole body with it's luscious, luxuriant limbs healthy and perfectly formed.   

My bundle of joy...oh God ! so pretty and so fresh like they're just born.  

 i had to hurry up for they would be lacking nourishment.

None of the containers i owned looked worthy or even snug enough but i had to make do with the best of what i had.

Also the feed had to be prepared first.

So after preparing the formula of the feed my happiness was sort of crammed in the one that i had. Deriving nourishment and getting refreshed  i hoped it could tolerate the discomfiture till i could  find a way to ease the discomfort.

It was a strange feeling. As if seeing it so close was not enough. Having it in my living room was not enough. i was overwhelmed. First with gratitude and all this beauty but later with some heaviness.

Soon i tried to ease the cramming and in order to ease the discomfort of my bundle of joy decided to let it crawl the entire habitable area of mine.

Like i said the strange feeling would not go and as the evening wore on i just kept hovering around moving apparently aimless but keeping a watch. i was not at peace.

Looking, feeling, wondering if my thank you was enough for the gift i had just received i was bewildered and perplexed with the slight nudge in the elbow of  my thoughts which was making my joyous castle of cards just tumble and fall helter skelter.

i was not flying but my feelings were. Rather they are still flying and perching on strange spots.

 Some wonderful moments with a dear friend of mine did come to the rescue and during the day today i was saved from the conflicting flood of emotions but as i am narrating now the opposites have returned with a vengeance. 

The pleasure of receiving but inside some pain too. 

Outwardly i have shared this joy with friends but the sorrow, the despair, the restlessness is all mine.

i feel like a bird in a cage who has doubts on her ability to fly. 

i have my wings but my muscles are weak and in order to fly i need to train my wings and stretch them slowly.

For the time-being it gives me lot of comfort as i listen to more of Rumi...