SELF-'MAID' DESTRUCTION

A long way back when I was in 5th standard, my computer teacher had introduced me to the word Intranet. When workstations are connected within a particular building (school, office) for sharing certain information, the network is called intranet. Now with the better technology there have been certain substitutes for Intranet which are cheap as well. But then nothing is cheap enough for women who have the habit of purchasing a product below its actual cost (as they can’t get it for free) until and unless the shopkeeper is down with tears! For them I guess it was very easy to generate an Intranet for their apartments, colonies which are very easily accessible as well ~ MAIDS! Now stop imagining Kantaben from Kal Ho Na Ho…as there are thousands of them. These maids are smart enough to earn in form of cash, delicious food, clothes just by gossiping with various housewives about various housewives in the best innovative way possible.


“Mrs. Khanna wore that pink sari thrice this month!! Mrs. Dixit had a long fight with her husband today!! Mrs. Sinha is planning to buy a new car. I saw Mrs. Mehta’s daughter roaming around with the boy who lives in flat number 68. One day I also saw her with Mrs. Desai’s son, the one who has a good height I had told u ?” These are statements which might be true but generally they are ‘Maid Made’. A maid without gossips in her kitty would remain jobless no matter how good a cook or a baby sitter she is and a maid who is better in cooking gossips as compared to food will keep earning even if the recession lasts for the next 100 years!

The point to observe is the adjustment and the tone between the housewives and these maids. The maids are well aware of their Market Value and that’s the reason why they never arrive on time and depart before time. During their working hours it’s difficult to differentiate as to who is working for whom. In the absence of these maids, the housewives vomit words full with venom (obviously to their husbands) “Enough is enough! She is late again! Have you noticed her body language? Am I her servant! She takes leaves on her own! She knew that there was more to do today that’s why @$%#$%# is late! Who the hell does she think she is? She so rude all the time! And you…you never even utter a word? Aren’t you supposed to take my side? Are you listening? Ohk! Let her come today! I’ll show you who I am and I will kill that Maharani today!” Husbands have lately understood the proper use of both the ears (entry and exit of words). This art has made them happier for sure.

And there she comes. Silence rules all over the house. The only question that is put to the maid is “Why are you late?” That’s the only time the owner of the house speaks. As then the Intranet is activated and she activates gossips which she has in plenty, beginning from how she abused the other maid who used to work with Mrs. Khanna earlier and then how Mrs. Khanna and Mrs. Singh had a huge fight for ABC-MNO-XYZ reasons and how ill mannered is Mrs. Mehta’s daughter along with all of her affairs (non existing they might be). By the time this conversation gets over housewives and maids would have become best of friends and there is no complain whatsoever. The husbands are used to this everyday so they keep themselves busy in their newspapers (now a days they get them in plenty just to show themselves more involved in some other stuff) or watching highlight of a match for the hundredth time!

These maids are responsible for care taking, cooking food, cleaning the house and the utensils. But with their superb Intranet abilities they are a disaster for any family. I mean at times the housewives blast out at their husbands just because of some problem that is caused by her maid. Let us see what happens on a ‘No-Maid’ day. No maid means more of work in kitchen for the housewives moreover no ‘Apartment Updates’ for her(this hurts a lot!). More work in the kitchen means she has to do it all alone. Doing it all alone means she has to curse someone for the maid being absent. “I am fed up of her. I will have some other maid as she thinks I can’t get a better one. She considers herself as the queen of all maids! Let her come tomorrow, I’ll show her who she is!” Nobody is listening (as the hubby is a spectator and the children are wise enough to get homeless in such hopeless situations) so now it’s the time for the hubby to listen. “Can you lower down the volume of the television!!!? Am I a dog barking here all the time!? Did you pay the electricity bills? The bulb in the next room isn’t working! Even that is my responsibility na? You allllll (the number of L’s combines her complete family) take me for granted! ”. Huff! It is deadly to imagine what kind of violence will take place if a family has such 7-8 No Maid days in a month!

The housewives need to understand that these maids will get them nothing more that Self MAID Destruction. Now in this article I have described the relation ship between a house wife and her maid. Men rarely come in the picture (where ever they have they are mere spectators). Shiney Ahuja might be an exception. We all knew him as a Self-Maid…errr Self-Made actor. I haven’t seen his maid but this incident ‘maid’ me think for which reasons could a star like him go crazy after his Maid?? The destruction which the housewives face are temporary ones but the Indian Actor will be remembered now for more of his Self-Maid destruction than his natural acting talent throughout his life! Beware of such……Kantaben’s!

MISS YOU MONTY…

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29^th July 2007. It was the worst day of my life. I was attending the funeral of my best friend with whom I had celebrated his birthday a few days ago (July 19). I still remembered his level of excitement while he talked about his preparations for Parul’s marriage. Parul, who sat next to me like a statue with tearful eyes, having lost her elder brother Monty. Both of us sat there like helpless creatures as the pyre kept burning. I kept looking at the pyre hoping he would get up all of a sudden, laugh at me and say that it was another prank he played with me. But life was no more fun.

I wiped my tears and looked at my hands. These were the same hands I was holding him with, sitting next to him in the hospital a day before. I could still feel the warmth of our relationship by holding his frozen hands. Our friendship was full of true emotions, pranks and humiliating endless arguments. He couldn’t speak a word as his mouth was covered by an oxygen mask. But we never needed words to communicate. I read numerous unspoken words in his eyes. Eyes, that had tears, pain and fear at the same time. Eyes, which were eager to capture everything, before they slept forever. An image distracted my thoughts, I saw my father standing before me who told me it was the time to leave. I thought if he had ever cried like I did in the last few days. I left the place after having a last look at the pyre; our 18-year-old friendship had turned into ashes.

Once I reached home, my mom asked me to wash my face after which she could offer me something to eat. I walked towards the wash basin as everybody looked at me like they had never before, especially the kids, whom I had always suggested not to cry. I looked at the mirror and found it to be very dirty, as if it had not been cleaned for ages. People often found it difficult to face the reality I thought. I wiped it with my hands and was amazed to see my own image. My eyes were red, as if blood had replaced my tear glands and my face resembled one of the patients I saw in the hospital a day before.

I came back to the dining table where my mom was ready with a plate of food. I tried to recall when was the last time she fed me with her hands, may be a decade ago. She remained silent as if she exactly knew I was lost in my thoughts. I often thought if there was an award for ‘timing’, all mothers would be very strong contenders for it. The best part of them is that they exactly know when to speak and when not to, as they can easily mould themselves into any situation. Mom knew that Monty wasn’t just a friend, but he meant the world to me. She was ready with a handkerchief even before tears left my eyes. She had also not eaten anything since morning. I thought of hugging her but that would have certainly made the situation worse for the kids who surrounded us.

Four-year-old Sakshu had been looking at me for quite some time now. He was known to be a chatterbox. Thus, it was a miracle to see him so quiet. The moment he saw me looking at him, he said “Bhai, I have finished my milk, now will you talk to me?” I tried smiling at him, at the same time, trying to control the tears welling up in my eyes. I looked at my mom who by now had wet eyes. She put a bite in my mouth which my throat refused to swallow. I couldn’t resist it anymore, I had burst into tears. I couldn’t find a better place than my mom’s lap to weep. My crying did spoil the atmosphere, as everybody around - mom, all kids, my grandfather, my grandmother, maternal uncle, maternal aunt couldn’t control their tears any more and the atmosphere went horrid as everybody moaned. 

I realized men do cry, and that too very badly at times. I cried like I had never before till I fell asleep.

There are times in life when one has to question if at all there is an Almighty. It was a similar phase for me. Monty was one of the purest human beings one could ever come across. I had never seen him complain about anything. He was always content with what he had and was a gem of a friend.

People kept consoling me saying “This is a part of life,” and it hardly made a difference to my state of mind.

Several individuals, who are a threat to mankind, live a happy life and a blessing to mankind like Monty had to leave the world for which reason? Can somebody explain me the logic? Nobody can, as nobody knows what he meant to me.

There are some wounds which cannot be healed by even the best doctors in the world. Monty’s departure was one of them.

‘Thousand prayers couldn’t bring him back

I know...as I have tried

Nor could a million tears

I know...as I have cried’

तन्हा सफर

बहुत दिन हो गए शायद ख़ुद को भूल चुका हूँ मैं
एक बार आइना तो लाकर दिखाता कोई

वीरान पड़ी ज़िन्दगी इक खँडहर सी गूजती है
दो चार पल खुशी के कहीं से ले आता कोई

भावनाएं तो सबके मन में बसा करती हैं
मुझे भी कभी हंसाता या रुलाता कोई

जानता हूँ ज़िन्दगी भर का साथी शायद ही मिले
पर दो पल बिना छल के साथ मेरे बिताता कोई

मैने कब कहा की मैं हमेशा सही हूँ
पर कहाँ हूँ ग़लत ये भी तो बतलाता कोई

बारिश में खेलते बच्चों को देख अक्सर दिल ये करता है
मेरे साथ भी कागज़ की कश्ती तो बनाता कोई।

करवट बदलते रिश्ते

ना यकीन मानोगे मेरी बात का इक बार में,
रिश्ते भी बिकने लगे हैं आज के बाज़ार में।

खोखले होते रिश्तों का तब मुझे पता चला,
“Make Friends” मैने पढ़ा जब एक इश्तहार में।

मेरी तन्हाई मुझे दोस्त सी लगने लगी,
अपनों से मिलने को जब लगना पड़ा कतार में।

अपनों ने ही छलनी किया है मेरे गुरूर को,
ना दिया ऐसा ज़ख्म जो आज तक तलवार ने।

अब खुदा का खौफ तक न रहा उन मुल्क को,
ढूढते हैं लाभ हित जो दोस्ती और प्यार में।

ये खबर भी जल्द छपेगी रोज़ के अखबार में,
रिश्ते रह गए हैं पीछे वक़्त की रफ़्तार में।

One Wild Trip...

You may hardly come across a guy who would probably refuse to any opportunity of being alone with four girls. But my situation was a bit different. I was in the middle of an unknown jungle in Auroville, Pondicherry, trying to figure out where 'Ganesh Bakery' was, at around 7 pm, without a torch! I could hear murmurs of protest all the time from Shraddha, Smriti, Rini and Pragati.

They would walk four steps then wait, make faces, curse and then walk again. Every now and then, Smriti and Shraddha would scream as if they saw a monster. If I was given an option either to walk with these girls or the wild bears, I would have chosen the latter.

"Yaar can we walk a bit faster? Only 25 per cent of my cell phones battery is left," said Pragati, whose mobile was the only source of our light in that dark and dense jungle. Smriti reacted saying, "25 per cent,? And we haven't reached yet. Will we be able to return? Should we return just now?" The girls looked at each other and then at me for a decision. "Come on guys, don’t be negative. Main hun na!" I managed to say, trying to sound valiant.

Suddenly, I got a mighty blow. It was a blow from Shraddha. The others mocked in unison.

When some motorbikes started getting a little closer towards the girls, they began to bunch closer to each other, holding each other firmly while making an attempt to hide behind me (as if I was an eight feet monster or something). The bike riders commented in some local dialect and whistled past. The girls stood breathless. I somehow controlled my laughter. They feared they were robbers who would return apart from having numerous questions. I obviously I didn't answer.

"It’s enough. I can't walk any more,"...wailed Pragati and the girls nodded in unison.

“Yaar I guess we have almost reached, it’s just about walking for another five more minutes,” I said helplessly.

"And if, we don't find Ganesh Bakery in five minutes we'll throw you deep into this jungle," warned Rini whom I thought was the only non-violent girl in the group.

Done. Having said this, I accelerated the pace of my steps. So did the girls. I have lost many bets in my life but neither have I had any bet in a jungle before. Luckily, approximately after walking for some two to three minutes we saw 'Ganesh BakeriI' in bold letters.

There was a huge sigh of relief. I ran and ordered a bottle of Dew. It tasted good like never before.

“Is this the right place for a shop? Don’t you get scared here? Do you have any idea how much scared we were? You know we all have been walking for the past one hour….” The barrage of questions rained on the poor shopkeeper….

I was just relieved to see that the girls found someone else to answer their questions.