Rights and Rituals

My free-wheeling rebellious ways were the bane of my Mother's life ever since I learnt to crawl around my childhood apartment. Went exactly where I was told not to go, never ate anything I was fed, read books that weren't meant for me, watched stuff on TV I was definitely not meant to watch ^_^ , kicked up a fuss every time I had to pray or go to the temple - you get the drift.

So rules, instructions, traditions and rituals were not for this disobedient child. And that's how it remained for a quarter of a century.

Till suddenly, a certain time of day meant waking up daily for a transcontinental phone call. Tuesdays meant that agnostic me visited a certain temple on someone else's behalf. For two weeks each year everything else (including the CEO of one's company) would be dumped in favour of quality time with someone. GTalk Video Chat (yeah, Hangouts didn't exist back then) is where I went on dates every weekend.

My Mother would have truly been proud of my new found ability to suppress the rebel in me and happily dance around all the various rituals that came to pepper my life with structure and stricture.

But you know what the funniest part was? I honestly didn't mind. In fact I actually looked forward to many of those rituals. They brought a new stability to my flitting-floating existence. They brought me and the boy closer.

And now we have made up some new rituals - some silly, some sweet - but each of which makes the love run deeper every day. The goodbye kiss every morning, the "What's for Dinner" joke each evening, the much-debated-over TV shows post dinner - each of these rituals adds another shade to the rainbow we're painting together.

With that the rebel casts aside her fear of rituals and rules and walks into the sunset with her Mr. Right (rite? right?).

Tujhe Dosti ki Kasam!

The other day, the most random thing had me pondering over friendship and it's many avatars.

Much against the boy's strenuous protests, I decided to watch Sanjay Leela Bhansali's latest magnum opus. The reason - a couple of my acquaintances  had worked on the movie and hey, it was a Bollywood movie! In this land of goras that I'm stuck in thanks to the boy, a dash of Bollywood every now and then helped keep me "Indian". 

I had pretty high hopes from the movie; after all, these friends of mine had received such glowing praise from THEIR friends all over Facebook. In fact I felt kinda guilty that I hadn't taken the time out and watched the movie earlier. 

It started off with the usual blindingly colourful frames, grandiose sets, OTT costumes that are signature Bhansali. However, instead of the lyrical romances that you've come to expect from Mr. B, here was a tapori Gujju drama that was trying simply too hard to be funny. Or make any sense whatsoever. 

Out of respect for my loyalties towards my friends, the boy gnashed his teeth through a full 25 minutes of the movie. But when the 3rd song and dance routine in 25 minutes came on (set to a terrible music score), all his finer emotions went flying out of the window and the boy fled the room, making the lamest of lame excuses. 

I sat through the rest of the 2 hours left of the movie, wondering all the time about what all those people meant on Facebook when they called this movie the best thing to happen to India after vada pav (Yeah, I miss Mumbai.)

This got me thinking of the various sub-species of friends that we cultivate over the years. 

Jai & Veeru - Chaddi buddies personified

There are the Office Friends - you bitch with them about all that's wrong with your workplace, share your lunch and a few wisecracks with them, but you know when you walk out of the building they're are filed away till the next dreaded day of work. 

Then there are College Friends. You shared memories, beers and innumerable assignments with these guys. You meet them rarely these days, but each time you do, you make a million promises to 'do this again soon'.

School Friends occupy a more sepia toned space in your head. It shocks you each time you see the present version of your skinny, unkempt school buddies - they are (with very few exceptions) at least 10 kilos heavier, their head is lighter by at least 10 grams of hair, and they often have a wailing, attention seeking appendage in the form of a baby (or a spouse, in some cases). 

City slickers would have Building Friends or Colony Friends who were your partners in crime in the evenings after school, but these days bump into you only during Annual General Body Meetings, in line for the free food during Navratri or Ganesh Chaturthi or at the local barber's where a face to face conversation could cost you half an ear lobe.

If you live in Mumbai, you definitely have some Train Friends. You exchange notes on the latest movies, together you haggle with canny vendors peddling random crap on the train,  you save a seat for them when you manage to jump on board before them, heck; you even sing along with them all while you make your daily hour hour long commute to work and back. 

Then there are your Chaddi Friends. These guys have known you since the time you were in your chaddis, they've bailed you out of seriously sticky situations with your parents, they've endured your mopey periods of heartbreak, they've been happier than you were for your small successes, they've cried with you and called you names, they've emptied their wallets for you when the need arose and hung around even when you shooed them away. This the the sub species that inspires sing-alongs on motor bikes with side cars attached, these are the guys who play starring roles in that magical motion picture that has all the requisite Bollywood ingredients - drama, emotions, humour, bad hairstyles and larger than life set pieces - our most cherished memories. 

Dear God, grant me an extra day with this honest-to-God, bitchy, tell it like it is sub species than having to put up with 528  'FB Friends' who don't even know my middle name. Any. Frigging. Day. 

2013: A Space Odyssey

It's been a long sabbatical, and I've missed my byte sized space of the internet. So here I am.

A lot has changed in the year and a half since my last post. I am now happily married to the love of my life. Have transformed from a staunch desi to an unwilling NRI. From a career gal to a housewife (OK, this was not by choice. The US Visa authorities deemed it fit. So.)

The dynamics of my relationship with the boy have changed too. From distance-riven separation pangs to mild claustrophobia. From rose tinted glasses to 'aate daal ka bhaav'.  From wild passion to tender companionship.

One thing however has remained unchanged. And that is our mutual need for space. I guess our relationship grew and matured on the basis of the few continents worth of space that we had between us. Even today, under the same roof, we seek our own private havens - the couch for me and the potty for him!

It is in my  moments of alone time that I appreciate the 'together time' that I've been lucky to have with him. It puts the things we say and do to each other in cold, unforgiving perspective. It's also a  friend who sometimes holds up a mirror to my face showing me the real me, warts and all.

If I had only one piece of relationship advice to give to someone, it would be this. Give your loved ones the privilege of some space. It'll only bring you closer.
 

The relationship recipe

Relationships come in all shapes and sizes. D-oh. You didn't need me to tell you that.

But seriously. Some relationships have you wondering 'what's the whole point of this?'. Like Mamata Banerjee and the UPA. Or India and Pakistan. Even Pakistan and Pakistan. Or that thing that's currently bothering me - an old friend and his newly acquired better half.

Does marriage preclude friendships outside it's sacred walls? Do friendships lessen your commitment to your partner? Or are we bound to bow to matrimonial pressures over the simple joys of buddyhood?

As kids we played with the neighbourhood kids, but that didn't make our siblings any less fun as playmates. Why then would spouses loose their sheen if friends co-exist in your social life?

Maybe these could be brushed off as ramblings of a single girl, who doesn't have a clue about marriage and all things knotty. Maybe these are just the shivers from the cold shoulder from an old (erstwhile?) friend.

All I have to say is that it's just truly a sad day for relationships of all kinds when threats and blackmail form the bedrock of a marriage and eventually strangle a friendship.