Sleepless Without The Sea

I love waking up to the sound of the sea. It’s so peaceful and it drowns out all the other morning chaos, which in Bombay includes things such as stray dogs barking, construction work and the blaring horns of anything on wheels. I’m not hating on the city (in fact most people who know me well, know how defensive I get about Bombay) but the sea definitely helps calm you down when Bombay gets a little overwhelming and suffocating at times. Sometimes it helps to come home at the end of a long day and sit by the window, look at the sea, listen to the waves, sip on green tea and let the sea breeze carry away all the worries and drama. This is almost a daily ritual for me, so I’m not too sure about how to get through the next 12 months without this beautiful luxury.

Last peek at the sea from my window, before moving to the guest house.
Do you see why I'm making such a big deal about missing this?

The last two weeks have been an absolute mess because of the move from our homely apartment to the guest house. Repair work was much required since the waterproofing decided to give in the day Bombay rains violently graced us with their presence. I love the rain because it makes the city look so green and beautiful but it definitely loses substantial brownie points this time for partially flooding our apartment. It’s a good thing we managed to move out some of our stuff beforehand! I’m mostly glad that none of my leather got destroyed – it’s very likely that I would have cried myself to sleep for the rest of the year if I had to mourn the loss of my bags (my sweet, sweet Chanel) and shoes. Sadly some of the wooden furniture in the house did not share the same luck. So…due to the emergency move, the guest house currently looks more like a warehouse and the extended hours of unpacking and organizing everything is not making it any easier to settle into this space – particular for Mama Bear who has to deal with the movers and construction people while Dad and I are at work.

On a less whiny and more positive note, my room here has a cute little balcony with a limited view of the sea, so all is not lost. Hurrah! Though I do wake up resembling the Grinch (quite literally) these days because the sound of the waves crashing against the rocks isn’t as loud anymore – so unfortunately I have to wake up to the sound of the early rising, evil pigeons that are camped outside my window. So here’s to hoping that I get used to this (for the sake of my sanity and productivity at work). Well, seeing how time has been flying by so quickly this year, I’m going to be optimistic and console myself by saying that 12 months won’t feel like such a long time since!

Sneak Peek Into The Quarter Life Crisis

There comes a time in everyone’s life where they start to question themselves and their actions on a daily basis. You begin to wonder whether you’re doing the right things, saying the right things and wanting the right things. It’s a pretty draining experience because you’re constantly secondly guessing yourself. I can honestly tell you that I’m not even remotely enjoying this phase. But then again, when has anyone ever enjoyed being in limbo?

Turning 25 last year marked the beginning of my quarter-life crisis (oh yeah, it exists and it’s brutal!). All of a sudden I felt like it was time to behave like a grown up without any prior warning. It’s pretty unfair if you think about it – it’s like suddenly pushing a kid who doesn't know how to swim into the deep end of the pool and expecting their fear of drowning to make them swim. That happened to me as a kid and I distinctly remember the incident – it involved me running into the changing room area, locking myself in the one of the cubicles (to hide from the swimming instructor) and then running home so that nobody could throw me back into that damn pool. Twenty years down the line, I realise that absolutely nothing has changed –  Okay fine, I've grown taller and now you can tell the difference between my brother and I, but my fear of drowning is still clinging on aggressively. Hint: Substitute swimming with marriage and it all makes sense in the current context.

The M word is extremely stressful and parents stressing about the M word makes the situation exponentially worse. It’s not like I don’t understand their concerns but at times their point of view tends to unleash chaos in my already sugar high mind. On one hand parents train us and push us to be independent women but when we behave like independent women, we’re told to tone it down because our ‘progressive’ Indian society is still very much male-centric. Some may beg to differ but I genuinely believe that this is still a prominent problem. Take my parents for example – Even though they come from fairly conservative backgrounds, they are open minded about most things and try to find a middle ground where them and I can peacefully co-exist. They really are amazing people (I may be slightly biased but most people who know Papa and Mama Bear will agree with me) because regardless of how adorably old school they are - they believe that everyone deserves a second chance and they believe that people should be allowed to live freely without constantly having to worry about being judged.  However, over the past year and a half, the arguments and intrusiveness regarding what I do, where I go, who I hangout with and why I need to go out after midnight have significantly increased. These things were never an issue before but since I have now 'come of age', it is important to portray the ‘correct’ aka homely image to the outside world. "Even if you're not doing anything wrong ra, people love to talk and jump to conclusions. It's better to be careful during such a crucial stage in your life" - is a frequently used justification to subtly encourage me to tone down my social life. 

Clearly burning bras have gotten us nowhere - looks like we're going to have to come up with something more creative for the Indian subcontinent. Maybe burning aprons? Seeing as kitchen skills are far more important than being compassionate, driven and trying to be more than just a wallflower. But not to fret my fellow single ladies, the past year has made me realise that while the quarter-life crisis comes with it's fair share of stresses, the unexpected experiences along the way are worth the bumpy ride. Not only do they help you rediscover yourself; you figure out how you really want to live your life and who you want to spend it with. Always better to be a 110 percent sure than end up broken and damaged, at least that's what I think. 

To Be Or Not To Be...Domesticated?

Hmm...so how do I turn this thing on? Ohhh, the whites and the colours need to be separated? I have to make the bed and fold my clothes? I get it, you're just messing with me. Haha, great April Fools prank! Oh, this isn't a practical joke? Bloody hell. Yes, the 13 year old version of me was quite perplexed after her first day at boarding school. The Brits really should have taken a few pointers about the dhobi phenomenon in India when they had the chance. It would have definitely made my life a little easier and my clothes would have retained their actual colour. 

Domestic chores start off as an exciting adventure because you suddenly feel very self sufficient and independent, but don't let that fool you. Once the novelty of manual labour wears off, the adventure very quickly transitions to a painful experience; I suppose that explains why they're called "chores". Just two years ago I was still at college in good ol'Philly - washing the dirty dishes, excitedly whipping out the Swiffer to clean the apartment and grudgingly visiting the dingy basement (aka Le Dungeon) to do my laundry. On many occasions I remember running up the stairs, screaming like a 5 year old child who was high on sugar because the washing machine was not only home to my dirty clothes, it was primarily the lair for roaches (the big flying kind that have a tendency to sneak up on you). In hindsight, I'm convinced that Le Dungeon was also the playground for a happy family of mice - that would explain all the squeaking and scampering down there. Picture the evil furnace basement scene in Home Alone but ten times worse - Enough said. Imagine having to deal with all this mental trauma just to get my laundry done! Paying $2.25 for washing, drying and socialising with creepy crawlies...not my idea of a relaxing Saturday afternoon. I would much rather spend that moolah on Bubble Tea and experience infantile excitement while eating the tapioca bubbles. Now that's the good life.

Maybe I'm being a little harsh; some of the manual labour wasn't so terrible. I actually enjoyed the weekly dates with my trusty buddy, Swiffer. But then again, my enthusiasm to perform the weekly apartment cleaning ritual with Swiffer's help is almost insignificant when compared to my love for domestic help. It's a universally known fact that many Indians are ridiculously spoilt in this manner and don't bear the burden of doing domestic chores.Whether you're the proud of owner of a one bedroom apartment or a bungalow on Napeansea Road, you're privileged enough to have at least one part-time maid/cook as a valuable member of your familia. Hiring domestic help is our way of spreading the wealth - Indians are firm believers in the "sharing is caring" philosophy or at least that's how we justify it to the haters. FYI- Rahul (the suave cafeteria helper at my previous workplace) is the proud owner of a Blackberry Bold 3...actually I'm pretty sure he must have upgraded to the iPhone or an Android phone by now. Need I say more?

Judge me all you want but I would much rather come back to a "home sweet home" than dread the chores that await me after a long day at work.

Where Art Thou, Prince Charming?

Bombay's infectious insomnia finally seems to have made it's way here.

My ability to get some shut eye anywhere at any given time of the day is a long running joke in the Panda household, in fact Mama Bear has affectionately called me "Kumbhkaran's Sister" many a times. Sleep has always been one of my best friends, which makes it even harder for me to understand why it's been evading me recently. While thoughts are racing through my mind like a crowded Colaba Causeway on Sunday afternoon, I sit awake in bed, staring at the ceiling for the third time this week. Listening to Coldplay usually helps pacify my mind on such nights, but even that has failed to fix me this time. In Coldplay's defense, I suppose it does take more than Chris Martin's raw yet soothing voice to help fill the void in my life. No, this is not one of those emotional voids that can be tended to by pep talks from the familia or bear hugs from friends. If only it was, then the solution would be so much simpler. Why aren't fairy godmothers around when you need them? Ugh.

Bombay's been good to me since I moved back. It's given me all the stability that my life lacked previously. But ever so frequently, the stability in my life gets a painful kick from the feisty red one (alias: my heart), as an attempt to remind me that my innovative distraction techniques are only temporary solutions. I've always been a little naive when it comes to matters of the heart; I want to believe in Prince Charming and fairy tale happy endings. It scares the hell out of me sometimes. What if I never find my soulmate? What if we meet while we're both committed to other people? There are so many lingering questions and doubts but the scariest one of them all is "What if I found my soulmate and let him go without even realising it? "

So here I am - 24, single and getting wedding invitations from family/friends. And while my voluntary stint in single-town has really helped me to understand myself and grow, it occasionally gets to me when "concerned" outsiders think it's appropriate to ask me why I'm not engaged or married. Some have shamelessly gone the extra mile and decided it was appropriate to tell me that "my biological clock is ticking" - Of course my biological clock is ticking! Isn't everybody's? Perhaps compromising and settling hastily are the safer and easier exit strategy options for my dilemma, but my belief in cheesy fairy tale endings gives me hope that beyond the mountain of emotionally stunted overgrown "boys", there exists a land of real men (I've been lucky enough to meet a few). So here's to hoping that my nerdy, somewhat cheesy, arrogant (but backed by substance), intelligent and attractive (this is of course subjective, since I find the quirkiest things attractive) Prince Charming will swing by soon and challenge me to a game of Mario Kart. Come to think of it, a few sleepless nights don't seem so terrible anymore. At least I don't have to deal with evil witches, poisonous apples and Rumpelstiltskin.

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This was sent to me a few hours ago (as a response to my post) along with a BBM that said "You're just being awesome!" by my crazy but lovable friend Moo. Word.

Slut Walk aka Besharmi Morcha

After taking a tour around the world, the Slut Walk finally made it's presence felt in India as the Besharmi Morcha. Well honestly, it seemed like the protest just created controversy in the media as opposed to really having any impact.

Around the world, women dressed up in provocative clothing and marched on the streets to take a stand for their right to dress the way they want and not be subjected to sexual harassment because of it. While it's great that some women feel so passionately about this, has the Slut Walk really achieved anything besides being a topic of conversation or the next juicy piece of meat for the media to sink their teeth into? Protesting while half naked and in some cases almost naked isn't going to change how people think. But then again that's just my take on it. The creeps that are out there aren't going to care whether you're taking a stand while fully clothed or provocatively. If they want to rape you...they're going to do it regardless. In fact, why give them the satisfaction of seeing your body? Why let them save that image of you in their memory? It wouldn't make me feel any better knowing that some pervert who's watching the protest is sexually harassing me in his thoughts.

The Besharmi Morcha in Delhi was different. The intention was different and women didn't go about it by walking around in their chaddis. They were dressed in their daily wear - kurtis, tees, shirts, jeans, pants and leggings. While one can appreciate that they went beyond the clothing and tried to focus on the bigger picture (pointing out how women can't live their life freely because every woman in Delhi is a potential victim of sexual harassment regardless of how she's dressed), the purpose was lost because it just wasn't possible for a population of 1.2 billion people to relate to this protest. We're still fighting for so many other issues - female genocide, education for girls, domestic violence and equality in the workplace. While these aren't predominant issues in the metros, they are still major concerns in smaller towns and villages. Women who care strongly about these issues took the initiative to educate people on female genocide, they helped set up schools for girls or made the effort to go teach them personally, they taught other women to stand up to their abusive husbands/in-laws while helping them to get back on their feet and they showed the world that women are just as capable as their male counterparts if not more.

Yes, Delhi isn't a safe place for women but how is protesting about this going to change anything in the city let alone India? Is it going to protect girls and women in U.P. who get raped even though they're dressed in salwars and saris?  The Besharmi Morcha is just going to shed light on the issue for a few days before it's tucked back into bed by the media. India is not like the western world. We are more conservative in terms of how a woman should dress and behave because that's just a part of our culture. What works all over the globe isn't going to have the same effect here because we function differently. Things take time and provoking misogynists isn't going to help our cause. Protesting is what we do when we want the government to take us seriously and with the Delhi Police Commissioner making statements such as, "You cannot travel at 2 a.m. and say that Delhi is unsafe…You should take your brother or driver with you", it's unlikely that there will be much support from the government. Taking a stand against sexual harassment requires a lot more effort because it's about subtly changing the mindset of the large population.

For every issue we've had to face as women, we've always adapted and made ourselves stronger. To me, it seems like the best way to win the battle against sexual harassment is by being street smart. Taking a self defense class seems to be a better use of time and effort. Don't just stop at you...teach other women how to protect themselves! This is just one precaution and there are many more that we're all aware of, so there's no point in me getting preachy and listing them. While these might not be foolproof solutions, carrying pepper spray seems to be a better option than holding signs and marching on the streets. As for being called a slut or any other derogatory word that is particularly targeted at women...rise above it. Once you start ignoring it, it stops bothering you and the word  loses it's power. Alternatively, we can always work towards diluting the meaning of slut, just like the opposite sex has done with the words pimp and player but that's just a temporary solution because there's always going to be another word.

There's a reason we lock our doors at night and make sure the windows are closed. It's how we put our mind at peace and make ourselves feel safer before going to bed. It doesn't mean we aren't living our lives freely, all it means is that we're doing it in a smarter way.

FYI - Some alarming statistics from http://indiafacts.in/statistics/crime-against-women-in-india/:

• West Bengal reported 28.1% of total Incest Rape cases

• Offenders were known to the victims in 92.5% of Rape cases

• Among 35 mega cities, Delhi city reported 29.5% of total Rape cases,  31.8% cases of Kidnapping & Abduction of Women, 15.6% cases (111 out of 711) of Dowry Deaths, 14.2% cases of Cruelty by Husband and Relatives and 21.5% cases of Molestation

• 49.9% conviction was reported in the country in Sexual Harassment cases (3,708 convictions out of 7,436 cases in which the trial was completed).

Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara

After two weeks of waiting impatiently, I finally got to watch Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara with the familia. Honestly, I thought the movie would be a disappointment because my expectations were ridiculously high (my friends have a knack for hyping things up and I love them for it!) but I thought wrong. The movie was incredible, I can finally understand why everyone who's seen it can't stop talking about it or using phrases/words from the movie in their conversations. You can't press Ctrl + Z and delete this from your memory because you feel like the movie represents a part of your life. Most of us can either completely relate to or at least see a glimpse of ourselves in Imran, Arjun, Kabir and Laila. This is what made the movie so special; its ability to let each person in the audience leave with a unique self realisation. It could be about anything....love, seizing the day, overcoming your fears or figuring out what your passion is.

For me, all it took was one simple moment in the movie to reinforce what was already on my mind. The scene where Laila borrows her friend's Harley and speeds off onto the highway is absolutely beautiful. It was a simple yet powerful metaphor and before I could control my self, there were tears flowing down my cheeks because it admonished me. That depiction of freedom and no regrets reminded me of the person I used to be just a year ago - free spirited and happy. Don't get me wrong, I'm still pretty dandy but growing up comes with certain restraints that subdue individuality. This seems to be the case particularly in India where everything you do after graduating from college is under scrutiny. It's a difficult adjustment if you've studied abroad and then decide to move back. After getting used to the independence and freedom, it's hard to imagine living life with so many constraints. You get judged for the way you talk, for the way you dress, for the people you hangout with and most importantly for how frequently you party (god forbid!). Initially it got to me because I realised how stressful it was for my parents to constantly worry about what the people in "our society" might think about me. But then I remembered that it's just been a year since I graduated from college, it's just been a year since I started working...I'm still freakin' young. There's too many things that I want to do right now, which can't be put on hold because some people have made it their favourite hobby to pass judgments on others. What's the point in worrying about what others think? I'm not shying away from my responsibilities, hurting anybody or being malicious. So I'm not going to apologise for who I am. Why be a low resolution version of myself for a "society" that's more busy judging others instead of living their own life? I'm going to let Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara give me that little push which was much needed and "seize the day".

It's my birthright to laugh, love and live and I'm going to do it my way.

P.S. Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara is definitely high up on the list of "must see" movies. Watch it with the subtitles on if necessary but don't miss this one!

Hope and Love for Bombay

Last week, someone set fire to my home. Last week, someone made me feel like I wasn't safe at my own home.

Security at hotels. Check. Security at malls. Check. Security at movie theatres. Check. Security on the roads and markets where the majority of Bombay is. Rain Check. Security at hotels, malls and movie theatres isn't going to protect Bombay and it's 20 million + residents. You think people would learn from their mistakes but instead we've just learnt to make peace with the governments repeated mistakes. We've begun to treat terrorist attacks like a bad movie. Watch.React.Delete. Life goes on. Our ability to forget is what gives birth to the sequel.

When New York City was the victim of terrorist attacks on September 11th, 2001, the US government took a stand and initiated the 'War Against Terror'. Whatever Bush's intentions were at that point and whether I agree/disagree with them is a discussion for another time but one must be in awe of how no one could stand in the way of the US government once the decision was made. The attack on the Twin Towers didn't just result in airports screening people like they were felons, it abruptly resurrected a sleeping giant. A sleeping giant that gave hope to the Americans and instilled fear in the rest of the world. How many terrorist attacks have taken place in the United States after that? None. How many terror attacks have been thwarted? Pretty much every attack attempted since September 11th, 2001. In fact, it's been almost ten years since the attack and just a few months ago Osama Bin Laden was proclaimed dead. Here in India on the other hand, it's been less than 3 years since Bombay was under siege by terrorists and here were are...plagued by terror again. What has the Indian government done in the last 2 and a half years besides keeping Kasab alive? Well that and being unable to prevent another terror attack last week.

Yes, clearly the Indian government has disappointed us over the years. Maybe it's a lost cause to believe that the system in India will ever change. Let's all just give up, sit at home and watch the news. Let's feel bad for about 3 hours and then forget that we were ever attacked. Most importantly - let's change our facebook/bbm profile pictures to an Indian flag and show the world that we care.

Did your parents give up on you when you were rebellious and frustrating to deal with as a teenager? Just because you didn't pay any heed to their advice and suggestions, did they leave you to face the world alone ? In most cases, I don't think so. Most parents are patient, they keep trying and hope that you will be the best version of yourself. If parents can have so much patience while raising their kids why can't we have that same compassion for our country? We're the largest democracy in the world...it's a shame to think that over 1.2 billion Indians don't have the power to change the system. The solution in this scenario isn't to give up. You have to keep pushing and trying to bring about a change. No one said it was going to be easy. So don't forgive and forget so easily. Doing so just gives the government a chance to get lazy and make excuses. We have to make sure our voice is heard and our presence is felt. Talk about it, write about it or organise a candle light vigil. The more we do, the more pressure there will be on the government to take serious action against terrorism.There's always power in numbers and there's no doubt that India is one helluva big number.

As the "mango people" of India, we have some serious rights and responsibilities. We are not going to forgive so easily the next time they treat us like fools and think they can get away with it.