MellowDrama

Death is a stranger to me. I haven't really had much to do with it. But now at the age of 34 I realise that soon enough we will be seeing more of each other. In the past three years or so I have lost a younger cousin brother, a dear uncle and my grandfather- Bauji. Perhaps his is the only death that can be called timely i.e. if there is a thing like that, calling a death 'timely'. He hadn't been keeping well for years now the past couple of years being the worst. he had lost his hearing and appetite. In the last year or so I think he even lost the will to live. It was I think my nani's efforts that managed to keep his body function to the best of its abilities as much as it could. I think all of us in the family were waiting to hear the news of his death. When Shaurya passed away in a car mishap, and my father called me up about his death, I couldn't hear his name in that one sentence that my father had to repeat over and over again. I think he became exasp

I loved writing this piece. Loved it. Yeah. I said it again. Oops! Abso-the-lutely loved loved writing this piece. ------------------ Before embarking on this article I have a few confessions to make. For beginners let me acknowledge the fact that I haven’t worked so hard on an article before this. I don’t mean to boast but writing comes a wee bit easily to me then other numerous things. This one article took all my strength and by the end of it I was exhausted, bleary eyed and breathless. Also I must include that I was very close to being internet-broke. Before your imagination takes off on wings and you imagine me running on a treadmill writing this piece, let me tell you why. I was exhausted by the rush of the numerous songs that filled my mind space gushing out like a river which is suddenly allowed to flow after its path had been obstructed by a big rock. I was bleary eyed from seeing one video after the other on Youtube (which kind of left me internet-broke). I star

I am staring at this screen. Some time has gone by. I meant to restart the writing process. Often during the day I have these amazing thoughts that I have left unattended for a long time. Now I want to take charge and start gathering them.  This happened after I read a quote somewhere. Isabel Allende's. Write what should not be forgotten. Now when I am trying to write that which must not be forgotten I forget already what it was to be. Some gyaan. That I am sure of.  Some random thought that I have been cud chewing. Some which take a shape. Gather weight. Form. See the light of the day or evening via a conversation.  It could be that or some guilt pang looking for an escape of a expression about the way I am raising my child. Or how she is turning out to be without my assistance.

We were at a friend's house when a tiff broke between the two siblings. I offered the younger one, my daughter's friend, to hop in the car with us for a sleepover. She did that delighted to get away from the bigger sister. My friend gulped hard. She asked her over and over again if she was sure she wanted to go away for the night. She cajoled her then threatened her then tried bit bribing and lastly entreated her to change her mind. But she wouldn't be cajoled, threatened, bribed or entreated. Her mind was made up and she came with us. I don't think my friend slept a wink that night. Whereas the child played to her heart's content and fell soundly asleep having tired all her faculties nicely. And this is what brought home a fact that life looks ahead. It knows only to move in forward gear. The woman might have worried about x number if things concerning her daughter but the child wasn't about one.

If you are the child of the 80s and if you can hum Doordarshan’s signature tune and recall the colours of the montage; if you remember the Ek chidiya song and sing it too ( to probably your kids now!); if you can recall the yellow sari of the Maggi mummy and Lalita ji of Surf fame then you most definitely remember the Buland Bharat ki Buland Tasveer. Yes! Hamara Bajaj. Bajaj Chetak- the two-wheeler that was a defining characteristic of our childhood and an imminent part of our teen years. Many of us have fond memories of riding the scooter to markets and may be to tuitions. Unfortunately, out of production for a while and not a frequent sight on the Inidan road yet the sight of the beloved two-wheeler on the set of Comedy Nights with Kapil Sharma brought back the nostalgia. I have very clear memories of roaming about the town on the grey Bajaj Chetak that my father owned. The grey scooter was recently sold off but I can still recall the ‘vrooooommmmm’ sound of the scooter a