When I sit down to think about it, I wonder how he didn't just throw his hands up and move on, give up on me ( there's God up there!!). Me, with all my doubts, misgivings and what ifs. I had my share of reasons for dilly-dallying, but he didn't need to be sensitive to each one of them. Or maybe he did. Maybe he sensed the hope in me much before I did.

It's been a tough season. I've had to change a lot of my perceptions, take a lot of decisions and learn lessons of responsibility. Never would I have dreamt of what doing the balancing act could actually entail. Do I hurt my parents, or do I ignore what I really want? Do I even know what I really want? It's a blur, but it's over. It has a peaceful ending. And it's made me grow up and find myself. Finally. Whaddya know, I'm even proud of myself, all said and done. No one's threatening drastic action, my future's not full of this or that, it's this and that.

And for most of this, I have to thank the man I'm going to marry. This probably won't happen too many times, so pay attention....I need to give him some credit (note the use of the word 'some'). He's had faith in me, and stood by me all through the confusing times I was seeking answers. Even bullied me into his way of thinking (wink). He knows I'm always going to be the one with the doubts, but the deed is done now......... the wedding date is fixed and more importantly, my mind is set (God help anyone who doesn't do my bidding!!)

My support system of girlfriends can put themselves right up there in the vote of thanks. Who else listens to your crappy reasonings and self-piteous whining, and still says 'I'm so happy for you' and means it? Go girl power!

And last, but not the least..........

yaaaaaayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!

Missing

People should not create blogs and then leave them to gather dust. I mean, so what if you're not being charged for the web space, surely you can tend to your blog and give it some TLC. Sad. So, considering that this page is sooooo well-maintained, we shall refrain from any 'update' activity.

Did I ever mention in my endless yapping in all past posts that time travels faster than light? Didn't get that, did you? (Einstein's turning in his grave now, so we'll leave it at that) It's the strangest feeling - that time is rushing by and yet, nothing's happening fast enough. Life's changing and yet, things are no different. I'm not sure if one can successfully compartmentalise one's life and address each segment independantly, but I sure wish I could. I want to speed up and find satisfying work; slow down and tissue-wrap each moment with my family. Not surprising that one objective often clashes with the other.

With each passing day, there's a sense of desperation vying for top spot with a growing sense of anticipation. I battle with a feeling of worthlesness looking at achievers around me. And yet such competition and challenge is exactly what drives me (I sometimes miss the old me - looking for a bone to chew on, a task to master) At the same time, I am knee-deep in this activity of day-dreaming about the not-so-far future.... laying down groundrules for a new life, a new place; new beginnings. Anyone for a peep into the future?

Where did all that come from? No, children, it's not that time of the month. In the words of the famous Bertie Wooster -- brought to life by P.G.Wodehouse, and they don't come any better than him --
"Extraordinary how I kept doing that as of even date (...) I don't suppose in the old days I would have plunged in thought more than about once a month".

{Check here and here for high quality, intellectual Wodehousian humour}

Thus, dearies, ends another of my sporadic emergences from blog exile. I am sincerely hoping this one sees me return to blogworld for longer. Did I hear someone say "Whyever?!" Shame on you!

Lucky to be a woman ! ? !

'Women will wait, get in line after the men for the prasad '. Thus ordained the priest at the temple to a dozen women waiting patiently.

I accompanied my family to a temple on the outskirts of my hometown in India this morning. Being a devout Hindu, and belonging to a lineage of brahmins (priests), God plays a very important part in my belief system. Though never forced to observe religious traditions or familial rituals, I can't imagine my childhood without the memories of my father's morning aarti, the quiet moments of worship in front of a collage of framed deities and tiny idols, the peaceful glow of the evening diya and numerous repetitions of some shloka with my indulgent grandmother.

And although it is true that I have my favourites, even among the vast Hindu pantheon of gods, I like visiting temples erected in the honour of any diety - more so if they are small, old and not partonised by a politician, filmstar or industrialist. There is a sense of quietude in the temple air, a calm that soothes my soul. I don't always find answers to my troubles here, but I certainly come back with a stronger belief that I can. This is a place where I can be myself - after all, didn't my grandfather teach me that God knows you better than yourself, that He is in you?

It is exactly this thought - or off-shoots of it - that was the foundation of my innocent belief that temples are great equalisers. Everyone is the same in the eyes of God, isn't it? So in most 'unimportant' temples in your neighbourhood-- where faith counts more than political or financial clout, and where the 'more equal' do not rush in for a 'flying' visit skipping kilometers of waiting devotees -- the senior manager in a multinational will wait in the same queue as the man who fixes you car, without much ado.

So there I was today, in the morning, extolling these levelling virtues of temples. Looking at how my father, the Vice-President of a big company, standing in line behind a village farmer, awaiting his turn for darshan , a glimpse of Lord Dattatraya. I was feeling gratified, my faith renewed with the purity of the people's surrender to God, revelling in the tranquility the temple brought.

And then, just as the aarti - traditional worship - was about to begin - we, the womenfolk, were first ushered over to one side of the puja area. We were motioned over to the sidelines , a quarter in size of the available darshan area. All the men had a full frontal view of the small idol and the proceedings, while we stood on our toes and flexed to catch a tiny glimpse. Having done that for the entire length of the aarti, we were made to wait as the men made their way to partake of the prasad and the teertha (holy water). Only after they had had their turn, were we (so graciously) allowed to proceed ourselves. Praise to the Almighty!

Suffice to say I am properly peeved. I pride Hinduism for its progressive and liberal beliefs. I know that it has grown as a religion and assimilated changes around it over centuries. I understand that each ritual and tradition was started with a logic relevant to its time. But why is it that even today, when on one hand men bow to Goddess Laxmi, on the other, women are meted out secondary treatment at holy places? Don't the men who ban women from entering the sanctum sanctorum at places like Sabrimala acknowledge the place of Goddesses in Hindu religion? Or is just that they haven't awakened to modern hygiene among women and still consider us 'impure' at all times?

No, I am not boycotting temples. No one can take away the serenity the temple round the corner possesses. One of the priests there is a woman, for starters.

Old Maid Activities

Attend my re-christening ceremony. Procrastination. That's what I should be called......I embody it. Oh, and my middle name, is, (not hard to guess)...Laziness. I am not ashamed to confess to those chinks in my armour. Surely, everyone has some, uh, weaknesses.

I'm growing older by the day, with not much to show for my age. And I am obviously excluding physical signs of aging from that. Oh! What shall become of me ;)

I have had the chance to catch up a bit on my reading, as well a spot of movie watching, though, in the past few months. So I read

• 'For Martimonial Purposes' by Kavita Daswani : Fast-paced, witty, quick read about a single Indian woman and her family's quest to get her married. Good read, I thought, considering I might just be the author's inspiration for 'Anju'.
• 'The Namesake' by Jhumpa Lahiri : I found this one better than her 'Interpreter of Maladies'. All the characters seem very real, the conflicts between two generations and the tumultous blending of two cultures over two generations are portrayed with just the right amount of empathy, I thought.
  
• 'Angels and Demons' by Dan Brown : Ok, with due respect to Dan Brown fans, this one, I found disappointing. The Da Vinci Code was good, but in this one, it seemed to me that Brown was trying to do too many things towards the end. Or maybe I am not the readership intended for this one!
• 'Rang De Basanti' : With sooooo much hype and hoopla, I confess I was looking forward to watching this movie. And except for about the last 40-odd minutes, it lived up to its promise. Messy end, a bit like the Angels and Demons one, where the makers appeared to want to cram lot into the remaining reel. Worth a dekko, though. (I know Aamir fans find this sacrilege, sorry people!).
• 'Real Women Have Curves' : Completely, totally recommended by moi! This is an HBO original, a little bit of a women-empowerment line running through it....but very gratifying to see a plus-sized teenager (with a really sexy attitude!) who is so comfortable in her own skin, literally! Move over, Kate Moss! Catch it on HBO if you can.

There are some works-in-progress -- To Kill A Mockingbird, Atlas Shrugged and Room With A View, to name a few. All of whom have been waiting patiently for my attention. But then, surely you haven't forgotten that I am about to be renamed for this trait of putting things off, lately?