23 September 2009

A Question of Memory

I don't know about you, but when ever I meet someone I extend my hand to say hello to them, and then let them lead me. They smile, and then ask me something about myself, and then I return the gesture and accompany it with another question.

And if the other person feels the same way, then they too follow my lead and we have a conversation, and get to know one another, and maybe the next time I see them down the hallway, I'd wave at them or give them a quick smile. If I have time, I'd stop, and see if they match the move. Should they, we continue to have another conversation, and maybe, with enough of these we become friends.

When this doesn't happen, and we don't move past the first hand shake, we remain acquaintances. Till maybe we get stuck in the lift, or any other confined space, like a meeting or a training session, where once again, they take the lead and I follow.

When that doesn't happen, they stay an acquaintance, and slowly the memory of the first handshake fades and they return to being the stranger they were. Maybe in conversations with other colleagues I could remember their name, or something they said about themselves, and in this they may live. But for the lack of sight, and speech and time, they will fade, like an old photograph left in the sun.

What I need to know, is, not how friends become lovers but maybe how lovers of the past disappear. Do we layer a life without them, over the layer that had them present or do we just wake up one morning and simply forget about them. Laugh. I know the answer to that already.

So maybe I want to know, if we in conversation keep them alive, and active and maybe even change the not so great memories into wonderful, lived, fantasies? Or do we just loose interest, maybe we don't make that eye contact with them in the hallway, stop listening to that something that tells you someone that your fond of is going to come walking through that door, or walking down the hallway. Stop recognizing the shape of their body in the shadow that precedes them.

I'd like to know how people forget people. Not that I haven't in my life forgotten people, just that I've never traced their removal from my life. Perhaps, it was too slow for me to notice. But I'd like to know all the same, because it seems to me, that I remember everyone that I've ever cared about. And I think sometimes, that I get forgotten and with ease. So either I was not cared for, or other people forget in a way different to me.

21 September 2009

Why Old India doesn't stand a chance.

I went for lunch yesterday at a friends place, and on the way back, which was a bit of distance I was thinking about my life and what we had done through the eyes of the traditional Indian. So often we worry about God and his judgement, that we forget the judgement people make on people like us.

The days when boys and girls don't talk to eachother are gone. A person's gender has become irrelevant these days, and more importantly, amongst the younger generation, we question why gender was ever an issue.

I know the answer to that, because when I came of age my aunt said this, " Now that you're a big girl, you can't talk to boys anymore. Talking to them can get you pregnant."

I laugh now, I laughed then, because I knew better. At ten, I could disbelieve the thoughts that someone much older to me had held their whole lives. And after having had lunch with a mixed group, with boys and girls, two couples holding hands, sitting on eachother's laps, at a friends home, with her folks around, I laugh even louder at the thought.

And then came the alcohol, don't get me wrong, we don't all drink in the afternoon. But we can have fruity wine with some vodka & apples for lunch, can't we? The old India used to say, that drinking was bad. It resulted in wife beaters, men passed out on street corners, harlem women drank with their consorts & clients. Ofcourse, the more scientifically oriented claimed that it was bad for your health, resulting it vomit infused with blood (popularised by movies of the time) and the more politically motivated claimed it was pro-colonialism for aping the ways of the white man. They claimed alcohol was foreign to the Indian pallette & the religious men said and still say, the Gods forbade it.

But we thought nothing of it, while we scooped the fruity wine and made plans to get more alcohol for later. So we did, and we all sat around the table and over a game of taboo, laughed and made fun of the choices of sentences:

"This is the person that you would take to court with you to help you win the case"
Someone yells, "CRIMINAL!"

And drank somemore wine, and some switched to whisky & brandy. And then the evening ended, I got a lift half way to my place. Old India would've frowned, at the thought of a boy and a girl on a bike together. We spoke on the way, of the previous jobs we'd held, and the Visa this boy was going to apply for, because he wanted to leave the country. And then he dropped me.

And walking to get to the nearest auto stand, at eight thirty pm, I had Old India in my face. A car slowed down, honking. I guess that's a message for solicitation, and I suppose me sticking out my middle finger at him disappointed him. And then came the truck drivers, following me, honking away to glory even though I was on the footpath. Some other passing vehicle yelled something out, and just when I was going to stick it to the truck driver, I got an auto.

Ever the hero in these situations, the auto driver doubled the normal meter charge, and I accepted. Old India would have considered this whole day unfortunate, girls should be home before sun down, or accompanied by a male member of the household when it gets late. These are the consequences of a delinquent girl.

Young India just thinks we need to stick it to them, and more importantly, that they need to get cars so that they can keep creeps away. Or have more cops around to wipe these drools off the face of India.

And that is why, folks, we don't stand a chance. The end to Old India is coming, and I know to many this will strike fear, for many this is just the life of one person. But my demographic cannot be ignored, the rising middle-upper class India, and a person representative of the age that 70% of this country is.

So I guess, it's time to Embrace the change, all.

18 September 2009

This is what it is

So we're going through this project at work. And I hope I rise to the ocassion and I certainly do hope to do the best.

But I know what will make me happier. A stable life, a known tommorow. Not money wise but person wise. I guess, at the end of the day, it's all I've ever wanted.

14 September 2009

Not your average mystery woman

So the past weeks have been moderately eventfull. I think I've had to undergo a spectrum of emotions & feelings, and I continue to experience things that don't quite come naturally to me.

Like maybe this- sitting in a crowd of nine strangers, looking at you, then taking a deep breath and then looking at eachother and then nodding and smiling amongst eachother. They they remember there's someone else in the room and revert to looking at you, albeit less interestedly.

Or maybe being rushed off by the parents & these strangers to the garden area where you are expected to have the all important ten minute conversation with your potential bride groom. And you know for a fact, your mother is peeping through the window, being watched like a hawk watches its prey before it swoops down for a good meal.

Incase you havent figured it out, I got match made this Friday. And it was a strange place to be, those few hours of my life. It didn't feel like my life actually.. but Saturday chick flick with the gang and the more than few drinks after that, restored my pride in this sinful life I lead.

I hear the next match up is a navy man. Fancy a swim anyone?