Life's Googlies

We all make plans in life but uparwala or the alimighty has different plans for everyone. You start every day with the thought that today you will hit a century but he throws a googly at you and in some cases you prepare for the worst but he does something for you that puts a smile on your face. 

My life is no different either. Unlike most children who love going to school I hated school, I just hated it from the bottom of my heart. Reason I would like to believe is that my parents put me in school when I was too young, because I started talking when I was just 1 years old by the time I was 2 I knew all the rhymes and the standard answers to "what's your name?" "how old are you" "what's your parents name" and of course, "who do you love more, mommy or daddy?" Like most parents mine also thought I was the best thing to happen to the world after "Einstien" so they pulled some strings and put me into school a few days before I turned 3. The year was 1985 - now I was told that all you do in school is make friends and play with other kids of your age. When I reached school I realized that they comfortably forgot to tell me that there would be a teacher in school who would shhhshh me the moment I opened my mouth. I was also introduced to a sentence 'finger on your lips' and the concept of WRITING. No points for guessing I hated both. I refused to write, I would tell my teachers "Miss I will say all the answers you write it for me."

At that time I lived with my aunt, she would come to pick me from school and every day after school she would sit down with other kids from my class and take down notes. Because I just refused to write. We had an exam at the year end and while I got full marks in all the oral exams I failed the writing exams - because of course I didn't write (seeds of a rebel were sown much early in life). My school wanted me to sit through my Jr. kg or L Kg or Pre Kg - and my family was disappointed, all their dreams of having the next Einstien in their family were broken. My mom requested my teacher to consider me and they agreed to have a re-exam - but there was a hitch. I would have to clear the written exam in order to be promoted to the next class. My mom emotionally blackmailed me into writing at least something in the answer paper. Results were out and I had passed -the family was happy and so was the teacher that she had gotten rid off me. 

This story has become a family joke today, reason something that I hated as a child eventually went on to become my passion. Yes, I ended up becoming a journalist and my only passion in life today is writing. Writing without bounds, writing anything that comes to my mind..... 

So you can see the googly he threw it me, But I'm glad for this one....I wonder what next?

Day dreaming

Some say those who dream are running away from reality or rather living in a world of their own which may crash anytime and when it crashes there is no escape. But I can't help but dream, there hasn't been a single day or moment in my life when I haven't dreamt. 
As a child I remember a common grouse most of my teachers had was "she's always day dreaming in the class" C'mon now I can't help it if my mind just starts spinning! Would love to share an incident here. During a Math class in standard 10 our teacher was teaching something about trignometry, while he and the class were thinking about sine, teta and cos I was somewhere else all together. I was thinking about how my school resembled a prison, where my ideas were just caught together and shut up in a tight cell. I was actually thinking of creative ideas of how to escape the prison - maybe I could feign sickness or better still I could hit a classmate so that they would call my parents and send me home! Suddenly I hear a stern voice asking me "what is the formula for area of a circle?" And that voice bought me back into tragic reality. I knew the answer but somehow wrapping up my dream and returning into the world of circles, triangles and 2+2 wasn't that quick. I was punished for daydreaming write out the formula 500 times for your home work! 

But if you thought that I had learnt my lesson, you are wrong. Some people never change and I guess I am one of them. We keep repeating things till they become a habit, now dreaming has become a habit. 

I think you should do anything as long as it makes you happy. If your dreams make you happy what's wrong with it? There's no tax charged on dreaming and in your dreams you can be anything from Bill Gates to Obama to Martin Scorcese to Al Pacino or Salma Hayek or even Rakhee Sawant. Also life is too short, there are so many things that you want to achieve but maybe the harsh realities of your life don't let you do it, for those of us there is the world of dreams.

Random thoughts

There are two kinds of people in this world

First group: Born with a golden spoon

Second group: Born with a golden spirit. All they do is struggle, struggle and struggle. Don't know for what they struggle? (I belong to the second category I guess?)

My Hindi

Last Friday I confronted a huge problem, reading two Hindi poems and translating them into english. It took me around an hour to read through those 12 lines, following which I had to gulp down a huge cuppa coffee to save myself from the pounding head ache I had. 

The last time I had read Hindi was when I was in class 12 and believe me it was torture for me then too. Now don't think that I'm a hater of our national language - I love it and Prem Chand's Gaban is one of my favourite Hindi novels (the only 1 I ever read), but I can prove my love for Hindi - I'm an ardent fan of Hindi films. 

Despite being a Malyalee, at home we have always talked in Hindi, I married a guy who's mother tongue is Hindi, so I'm no hater. 

Then you might wonder what was the trouble? Well the trouble is my version of the language is rather distorted one of the side effects of living in Bombay. Here is what some people have to say about my Hindi 

The best friend Amrita Singh - "Arch, when you speak in Hindi it feels as if someone opened a gutter. So please do me a favour and speak to me in English." (I understand her disgust she's from Delhi, so naturally she has to hate the Bombay Hindi) 

F.Y. I - I love giving excuses.

The husband - "Your Hindi is CUTE, (creating unneccsary trouble everywhere) the ones who criticize it are just jealous they aren't as cosmopolitan as you." Proof he loves me.

The Aunt - "Nonesense and good for nothing" (No comments) 

The Dad - "Your Hindi is better than your mom's" (BTW my mom only knows one sentence in Hindi 'bhaisahab kya time hua' she lives in Kerala)

The Teacher - "Did you ever learn Hindi at all"

Coming back to who do I agree with? Of course the Husband after all I'm a  'pativrata nari'.