(P)et Sematary

Seen this Stephen King movie? If you haven't don't . 

When we were kids the children in the neighbourhood would swap ghost stories. There was a graveyard near our school and while waiting for the school bus in the mild winter evenings , we used to let our imaginations run wild formulating ghost stories about the unknown buried there. During power cuts in summer vacations when we used to visit cousins, the hours would pass saying stories about unearthly sightings. The verdant village environment did aid in enhancing the eerie feeling. Naturally ghost movies were quite thrilling to watch during those formative years. I remember a serial named Quelay ka Rahasya being telecast on television late at night. In spite of my mom's advise I chose to watch it. For the whole week, my mom never had a full nights sleep since I would always wake her at night to accompany me on the bathroom trips. Likewise was the case if I had heard a particularly spooky story at school or from friends. Mummy would admonish again and again to abstain from such activities but I had no idea what was the thrill ? She was very logical in her reasoning that such stories or shows are not petrifying  when heard. They are rather funny infact. It is when we reminiscence especially in the dead of night or in a desolate house that they seem disturbing. 

But who listens to words of wisdom and experience? One fine night, I was in my room at Kolkata watching Pet Sematary.  The movie revolves around pets being buried in a particular cemetery who were getting resuscitated. It is not conventional scary in terms of blood and gore but very nerve chilling and disorienting. I think that is the USP of well made horror movies.  I watched The Birds by Alfred Hitchcock  and I did get the same experience though the story seemed very innocuous . Anyways coming back to the movie in hand , I started getting sleepy in the middle and decided to call it a night. I had to use the toilet. I went out of my room turned to go to the toilet  outside my room and switched on the light. I looked above at the ventilator and saw a big black cat. I froze. The cat stared. It then jumped and ran straight past me. Luckily the main door of the house was directly opposite to the toilet door. Since it was a warm summer night, I had the door open. There was another  gate ahead which was locked. I had left the door open to let some fresh air and would have closed it before retiring . So the cat bolted out of the main door and scraped through the  gate. All this happened within the matter of seconds. I am not sure if I have been able to paint a good picture of the events but trust me they were very unsettling. I was shaking for quite some time after that. 

How did the cat manage to get into a closed bathroom inspite of it being locked I have no idea. What would have happened if the main door was not open, I care not to imagine. I cannot visualise going and opening the door to a feral frightened cat. I think I would have zipped into my room locked the door and waited for the maid to come in the morning:( since coincidentally I was all alone at home that night.  The incident occurred when I was watched Pet Sematary  was the most uncanny. There was some weight in the words of my mom after all. That day hence I swore never to watch  any horror flick ever again. 

Ok I have watched Ek Thi Dayan and Vaastu Shashtra. But that's it. Horror films and I don't go together. At all. 

(O)CD

Technically I do not suffer from obsessive compulsive disorder. But there are certain aspects in my day to day life over which I need utter and absolute control . 

The first being time. I have a certain time I have to get ready by, start to work by , get to work by and get everything set up. I have some tolerance levels which are again pretty much written in stone. So I can start from home anywhere in the region of 0800-0815. A minute later than 0815 and all hell can break loose. I feel everything spiralling out of control. Earlier than 0800, I feel I am at work way too early and hence feel bored for some time. Being the weird me, I do not take the opportunity to do something useful rather fret away feeling I could have been at home doing something useful. What could I have achieved in a minute? You tell me :P Similarly the time I start from work is untenable . I do not understand how K works till he reaches a 'logical conclusion'. I start working towards a logic conclusion 45 minutes prior to my slated departure time. Not a minute is wasted beyond the time I have fixed for leaving my desk.

I have the general need for cleanliness and order which is the most prevalent characteristic of compulsive behaviour. What goes hand in hand is that the bed sheets should not have any corner ruffled, books should be aligned if they are on top of one another, different sorts if cutlery should be in their designated location. The list goes on. I have the same adherence to my fitness regime. I have never exercised every day but I do try to on the weekends. I try to squeeeeeeze in an hour every day of the weekend. If something happens that takes me away from it, boy you have a Crankasauraus in your hands :) 

When I started working , I used to be a spendthrift (not that I am a lot better now) but I would like to think I have improved. What put me on the road to recovery was an intervention of sorts by my mother. She laid the ground rules that I should always keep some savings every month, because there were families which subsisted on way less. To do so she encouraged me to write down my expenses and keep a tab every month. It has been 10 years and I have been religiously writing my expenses :) it does not help me save more or be more diligent . It certainly helps me in noting where what goes. The most it helps me price vacations, since they are an the only aspect I am interested in :D I have been tempted to give it up many times ,but then you must be aware how I am :) 

I do not have any skill for anything to do with numbers. But in any examination if the question asks for a certain number of points say state 6 differences between so and so,I stretch the boundaries of my imagination and definitely put up that many number of points! Try me ! An annoying facet is that I have to finish books no matter how pathetic. I have wasted a lot of precious time reading seriously mind numbing books. I wish I could decimate the authors, but I still read on *Shouts into a pillow* The same does not apply for movies though :P

Well, I reckon we all have certain aspects of our life which we deem inflexible. So what's yours? 

(N)o

Once in a job interview I had answered my most noteworthy feature as being assertive. When I had run it by K, he had responded that I would not want others to think that saying No was my best quality. I said how was being assertive equal to saying no all the time. He said, it was corporate speak for being able to decline or deny something  when condition needed. That was news to me! Which made me think, what was the big deal in saying no? The word exists for a purpose. It conveys a lot of meaning. It is a very strong word no doubt. But I feel there is nothing so wrong in saying the word. Once my sister in law had received an award and the citation commended her assertiveness. If I go by what K was offering, that means she was quite vocal in her No-s as well. She is a very successful career woman which must mean she is doing something right by saying those timely No-s.

Yes a blatant NO can seem hurtful. I have been privy to such instances a lot given my utter lack of talent to sugar coat things. One such instance which was hurtful was, when  my mil asked if we could plan a trip to the local temple one day. She is  very pious  while piety and I have not met each other. I happened to say no, we will go somewhere else. The word transformed the moment into a Cuban missile stand offish situation. I apologized and peace prevailed, but boy I had learnt my lesson well and good. :D No more no-s that easily :P Another incident I remember of 'no' fouling up everything was once when one of K's very close friends had asked for some cash. K had given the person some loans on and off. I had expressed my reservations regarding the trend. But K had always vouched for his friend. I had to give K the chance to handle it himself. After a point, K himself realised that it was becoming more of a habit than a need. He had to put his foot down and say no. Things went downhill after that and how! It was as if the whole edifice of friendship was based on the some bills of money. There was no immediate resolution. Since it was slippery ice, we decided to take it slow and let things take care of themselves. Time is indeed the best healer, and the said person moved on, has now gotten a family and is very good with his finances. But we did realise how potent the word was. Once bitten twice shy and we vowed to keep finances as far as possible from close friends and relatives.

There is one No which no one can escape nor challenge. Yep. You guessed it. The toddler NO. Shall we brush our teeth? NO. Breakfast? NO. Shall we take a bath? NO. Shall we goto sleep? NO. Wear you coat. NO. Come inside. NO. I think it is the definitive answer to any option a well meaning parent might throw at their off spring :D Huh. Its pure evil how effectively a toddler can use an assertive no to dodge anything thrown at them. I am sure we all started there. Which means we have spent quite some time unlearning this instinctive trait just like swimming :D

(M)iddle age

Sigh! One lazy Sunday afternoon in Kolkatta when my then roomie and I were watching some flick, there came the ad of Ponds age defying lotion. She mentioned, once we are 30, if we start on with these lotions, we will ward off the fine lines for sometime. That time, the time when I would need to apply those cream seemed very far away. Now I have crossed that threshold (ok no one needs to go on a frenzy about my age). I did not heed much to having been over the proverbial 'middle-age' mark. I have seen characters in television shows make much hullabaloo about reaching the said age. I Had colleagues who took vacations to mark their all important birthday. Somehow the specialty of the number never hit me. It was but another number. 

Around my work place people discuss age very openly. There is nothing to hide, but I feel back home in India there are more pressing matters to discuss like finance or palak paneer recipe rather than age or weather(I am just being sarcastic, no  offense :D) I took a while to get used to it. I don't lie about my age(there is nothing to, and I adhere to the fact that if you don't lie you don't need to remember a thing. I have bad memory which is a different realm of discussion altogether. I would not want to remember which age I told whom :) ) But I was really amazed at how much age mattered to people. They wished to look younger for ever. 

Again in this area I am a very bad judge. Most people seem to be in a certain bracket to me;20-30, 30-40 and so on. But in the bracket if someone is on the very high side say 38, while I thought them to be 30-40, I think they look uber young. I marvel at the way they have 'maintained ' themselves. I wish I looked half as good as they did when I reach that age . When people hear my age and sometimes say oh you are so young I wonder if they thought me to be 99 and I turned lesser or it's in the sense that I am younger than them. I for sometime feel as if I am a part of their circle any more or not? There are other tines when groups of people make fun of youngsters aka graduate recruits. I join in the fun talk, but then I don't see a lot of difference by virtue of age. I feel they look lost because they are new and not because they are younger. 

What is the big deal with age  ? You look as young or old as you feel you are isn't it? By those standards I am not a day older than 22 :)  My mom says if you have an erect back and smile on your face rather than a frown you look young.  I feel missing a double chin(which I am definitely sporting now :'( ) is the trick to looking young . In this age if beauty consciousness is there ever a real appreciation of the wisdom that gathers  with age? Say the maturity in forgiving people or being more empathetic ? Or are they signs of being  'old'. I think that truly is 'middle age' where one searches for the real age bracket one belongs to. Too old to be the young blood. Too young to be the veteran. Just stuck in the middle :( 

I remember a stand up show in which the comedian remarked, it's either the very young or the very old who are truly proud of their age. You will hear 'I am TEN' with a lot of pride , or 'I am SIXTY SIX' with a lot of enthusiasm . The 'mid ages ' are just murmured . I must say there is some truth in that . Till I reach the age where age does not matter to me, let me go ahead and buy the next age defying lotion :P

(L)ooking through the glass window

(Excerpt from my attempt at writing a bit of fiction. A very amateur attempt  and this is just a portion of it. Did not want to put any reader to coma :D The name of the story started with L and it being weekend, was unable to think of anything else; hence this mess :D ) 

The smell of freshly brewed coffee wafted as Sam sat nursing a headache. She promised not to ignore her sleep again. She hoped to keep her promise for a day at least. But the clients were important. The presentation had to be immaculate. The facts had to be accurate. She needed to be on top of things. Now , she yearned for a mug of coffee. She knew the lady in the opposite apartment would have it ready. Along with the malt drink for the kids. Could she pop over just this one time and get it? She seemed like a nice person. She would not deny her. Sam wanted to crawl back to bed with some buttered toasts and a steaming cup of coffee. What she did instead was shake off the reverie and get a shower. If she did not hit the road in the next 30 minutes, she would have to negotiate the mind numbing office traffic. The steaming cup of coffee? Some other time – 

Saturday for sure! She made a deal with herself. No work this weekend.

Quarter past 8, she swerved her way out of the apartment. She did not notice Annie waving her kids goodbye. But Annie did give a fleeting glance to the red sedan. The hatchback had been changed for the sedan three months back. The car still had its sheen. How Annie longed to be able to go on a long drive herself. Now most of her car rides ended up being errands. The kids were into music and tennis and swimming. Even the weekends were packed with the classes. She should try to squeeze in sometime and go for a relaxed ride with the music on. Maybe Saturday morning. She should give it a shot. As of now she had to hurry and pack her husband’s lunch. 

It would be a while before she had a chance to catch her breath. Getting the breakfast and lunches ready for the children and husband left her with barely enough time to even sip her cup of coffee. Once they were gone, the house reverberated with silence. The chores beckoned. The laundry,the kitchen, the dishes, the floors – every bit had to be kept in order. She could get some help. She felt a special joy in doing it herself. Her home, her family - she mothered it. She could have gone the ‘sedan’ way. Taken that overseas assignment. As she slipped her apron on, she wondered if a business suit might have fitted better.

Her feet hurt. Her shoulders ached. The neck felt stiff. Her eyes felt dry. She was thirsty. But the figures were not matching up. There was something amiss somewhere. It was midday and the meeting was due in another hour. She had to get the report straight. Jyo popped in with some chocolate brownies. It was her child’s second birthday. She was leaving work early. Sam sighed. Lucky! She took a bit of the brownie. It was delicious. The sudden sugar rush made things clear. She saw the elusive rounding off error. She had just saved herself an hour of plodding through blind alleys. Thank God for that. She had just enough time to grab a sandwich. But if she changed the axes of one of the graphs to give an overlay report? That seemed like a good idea. Surely the clients would not have thought of that view. The sandwich could wait. Coffee and crisps from the vending machine would just work fine. 

She sat devouring the book. Her guilty pleasure. She had three quarters of an hour to go by before she would rush to the gym. An hour on the treadmill. The habit of more than a decade had helped her keep in shape. It also helped her unwind. An hour of no thought about any duty. An hour was all she could manage before it was time to grab the kids from school. The sight of her two girls rushing towards her as the school gates opened was priceless. The sweet smell of their sweat, their talking over each other to tell whatever happened, their fighting over which song to play, their rummaging for any snacks, their very presence was ethereal. Annie watched their heads dipped silently over the plates of food she served once they were home. She had her evening cup of tea and the girls quietly slurped their food. She had cooked rice with vegetables and a lentils soup. The girls loved the soup. With the energy back in their body – the chattering commenced. 

All she could manage was smother them with kisses. They went to the play area while Annie stood 

in front of the refrigerator pondering about dinner. She had to get it ready before it was time to sit 

with the girls for their home assignments. It was all quiet. He had the keys to the house. He preferred coming over quietly. And surprising her. But she always knew. Each day he came in at a different time. But every day she knew. He never startled her. He just stood there letting her slowly realise his presence. She was aware of his aura. She let him feel as if she did not. She carried on whatever she was doing – folding the clothes, ironing them, doing the dishes, chopping the vegetables, cleaning the kitchen board. She carried on, till for some activity she needed to turn in his direction. Then Annie looked into the eyes – of Phil and came into his warm embrace. 

They were all seated at the table. Warm rice, mixed vegetables, fish fry, salad and yogurt. Sam loved fish fry. She was swept by nostalgia as she heard her mom over the phone. She should not have asked what they were having for dinner. She had a burger, potato fries and cappuccino. She lied. It would be a long time before she could even think of dinner. Her pro-activeness had landed her neck deep in work. The clock was edging towards nine. She let her parents to have their dinner in peace. She promised she would eat better. She promised she would call on time the next day. She promised herself that she would keep those promises. The silence was permeating. The humming of the air conditioner was the only thing that made her feel there was life. An hour more would suffice to get the job done. Her thoughts went to food. She had kept an extra helping of the brownie in the morning. That would suffice to keep the hunger pangs at bay.

Some strands of her hair had fallen off from the grip of the band. She had a hint of dark circles under her eyes. Her body seemed exhausted. But the lips- they curled into a smile. The smile of being in the presence of someone you love. Sam looked down. She felt guilty at having looked through the glass window. She felt like a voyeur. She put the key into her apartment door. The click was deafening. As she glanced at the stark living room, she felt the absolute lack of life. She had no intention of making the instant noodles. A warm cup of milk would do. It might even help her sleep. Though sleep would not be so easy to come by. With the laptop, the iPod, the iPhone and the e-reader for company she would think for a long time. About the numbers, the analysis, her presentation, her attire for the all-important meeting. Amidst the clutter, a harmless thought would cross her mind. She could have gone the ‘family’ way. Not taken the overseas assignment. 

To be continued... maybe... :) 

(K)leptomania? ;)

Hmmmm I think I like some of these

Aww monster my fav

Make a run for it! Yes she did try running away with the toy :D

(J)ob hunt and beyond

So Ashma and I survived our college years. We began our careers in different places in different companies. We remained in touch extensively because obviously we could not do without that. Gradually things at my work front started deteriorating. I took a leap of faith and ventured to  Bangy where Ashu was located to look for fresh opportunities. Ashu welcomed me into her home. She never let me pay a dime for all the expenses that occurred over the span of 2 weeks that I was there. It was very nice to simply be with her and in her presence. We used to have our morning breakfast together. I was friends with her room mates, so we would spend some time studying. Then I would go to the nearby internet café to apply for jobs (Yes internet was not a household phenomenon then), since the job market kept changing every day. Evenings Ashu came earlier because I was there. I used to be surprised at the amount of hard work she used to put in. She is a very lazy person. I used to joke that she can not keep herself vertical for more than 60 seconds and ends up lying down on a sofa or reclining against some body. Yet she was a go-getter at work. Just seeing her function around anything related to office, I could imagine how serious she would be at her work place.   She used to pack her days so that she could be  home with me earlier. After making and having dinner together, we used to watch some TV.(I know we sound like an old odd couple :D ) A couple of days into this routine, we started taking a walk after dinner. That is I am sure any sort of physical activity Ashma has every engaged in. Yup – she is too lazy(which I have just stated :D ) when it comes to doing anything related to fitness but very proactive in bemoaning her lack of the same! She used to live in a very posh area of the city. During our walks, we used to marvel at the exquisite houses there. Many seemed vacant and we used to think of the whereabouts of the owners. We would spend our hour long walks thinking if some house might be haunted or some house might be having people inside with all the lights switched off, or some might be teeming with servants to look after. We reminisced a lot about a similar locality in Rourkela where we studied and we were amazed how we had paid attention to the same houses! We were too attuned to each other. We still are. So much so Ashu says we don’t need to talk! In spite of it, we did and still do spend hours talking!

Weekends I had the support of Ashu and K as I went for walk in interviews. They would wait outside in the scorching sun hoping for a smile on my face as I came out. I was always slated to disappoint them. A change of job was not destined to happen during those days no matter how much I tried. They were always up to cheer me up with ice cream or coffee or cakes. Ashu introduced us to the most earth shattering sundae 'Death by Chocolate' at a local café near her house. It is still a hot favourite of K and mine. I remember years later when K and I made a trip to Bangy in late 2008, we made sure we booked time to have a date with DBC.

Ashu and I have moved on, had families, changed cities and continents. Yet the bond remains. I am a fan of her laid back and go with the flow nature. It would take quite a lot to ruffle her feathers. What comes along with it is her total lack of malice for anyone else. I have never seen her be jealous of somebody else's progress, take a stab at anyone personally or be vindictive or judgemental. She reinstates my belief in the fact that good things ultimately happen to good people. Ashma is definitely one of the few genuinely good people I know. Bless her!