Not our story

Attraction, desperation is not our story. The laughter we had shared, is now mere a memory.

If we are meant to be together,  you must remind yourself to think about us. Do not invest your thoughts into the tales spoken by the people.

Things could still be repaired,
If feelings are expressed.

- #beingrutujaa

You're in love with a lie

It was the second Saturday of April 2016, when we met on an exotic shoreline of Goa.

We were fallen under the spell of the enchanted Wine. It was not the regular selves of ours where were were obsessed by careers, or desperately try to impress each other. Rather we were impressed by each other.

The blues of eyes matched perfectly with my shoes. My perfume played it's part well in mesmerizing you. The flamed of the bonfire had hidden a secret within.

Your defined love towards me has a deep meaning within. But don't panic.

Before you realize what had happened, before you diving into the infinite thoughts of mine. Breathe deep. Count digits from 1 to 10. Take a pause. Don't be surprised.

I'm gone without a trace. I'm not next to you. My phone is not reachable neither you'll find me at my hotel. Now that all your attempts reminds me of an epic failure.

Let me unveil the mystery. I was never your puppet. Never did I allow you to play the game with me. For, I knew your happiness strives on fooling girls,  playing with their emotions and leaving them clueless to find what went wrong between two of you.

Do not underestimate anyone. Remember it is easier to hurt someone than reserving a place for yourself in their heart.

This is a surprise to you. You're in love with a lie.

#relationships #meaning #beingrutujaa

A Step Towards Healthy Life

The following tale is about my known friend. He has recently moved into a new apartment, 20 storey’s giant building. No wonder it has a panoramic view, the sea on one front and a huge cluster of other apartments on the other.

But even as he opened the windows and took into in the wonderful view, he noticed a thick pall of the grey matter that lay like a cloud over the city. Of course, that is not rain clouds but the cloud of pollution rising from the ground and blanketing the city.

I remember an article stating that the lungs of coal miners show up black deposits at autopsies. This is probably exactly what our lungs will throw up, too.

Vehicle exhausts, smoke from the fires that cook meals by roadside and in the slums, industrial fumes and other unseen hazardous emissions, dust from unpaved roads, from road works, everything adds to the deadly spice that factually mantles the city.

And yet, we take it as a part of development, of progress.

I am not against the progress. None of us who live here and enjoy the bustle and throb of this worlds pace is. But the more buildings that come up and the more vegetation is cut away, the more our lungs and the lungs of this city will choke.

New and efficient constructions in the city are welcomed. But adequate steps need to be taken to ensure that the pollution is cleared.

Lets us preserve the green we have, just for own sakes. Let’s plant more, grow more, and banish the cloud that hovers over our health. 

Cattie Cat

What is a home without a pet? Well for those living on their own or the elderly, it can be a lonely place. What better than to come home to a warm welcome everyday no matter what. I believe that owning a cat provides positive physiological and psychological health benefits.

I do feel a sense of being needed and so boosts self-esteem as well. Cat social behavior and their ability to let us into their family is a real privilege.

Around Eight years ago, I found a Cat and named him LEO. LEO was a rescue cat and we suspect that he may have been mistreated. He was found wandering the streets, so he may have been abandoned. Luckily he is still a friendly male cat and seems still to love human contact.

Although he is usually a very happy cat, he does suffer from anxiety when I go away for a few days even when I have my family look after him. He shows this by eating less food, sitting at the doorsteps and sometimes even by rude behavior.

This is something he never usually does. Other cats may show other symptoms like chewing furniture or over grooming causing bald spots.

Leo was a bit insecure at first. He followed me everywhere and even sat outside the bathroom door waiting for me to come out. He would sit really close all the time and was generally getting under my feet.

At first it was cute but eventually I had to try and stop this kind of cat behavior, as I didn’t want him to become overly attached to me.

My solution was not to encourage him to always sit on my lap but to use his own bed. And I felt this condition to be more problematic because he wasn’t attached to any of my family nor with the neighbors .If he was persistent I would quickly blow on his face, just the once. He would then back off, but he didn’t feel punished, it was just a little reprimand.          

Secondly, I always wanted to pet a cat. His natural cat social behavior was to try to get in my way until I gave in and gave him a stroke. But by not giving in, he learnt that he would get affection, but not when he was yelling or climbing all over me.

Bonding with Leo is much more involved than just feeding him. For a relationship to be built between the two of us and for it to become a real cat companion, time must be spent getting to know each other.

You must play with and talk to your cat a lot in the early days, responding to them when they seek you out and building trust between you both.

Don’t’ be tempted to swamp your cat with too much attention as this might make the cat nervous at first, especially if the cat has come from a rescue home. They will need time settle in and find their own way round. Just make sure that you are available to them and they will start to show their natural cat social behavior.

Today my Leo is famous in my Society. In fact, the local fisher women knows him and give him loads of fishes. He has become bit bulky because of overeating. He drinks almost one liter of milk, fish, rice, cat food, biscuits etc each day. The neighboring kids feed him with Ice creams, Potato chips, chocolates, and other kind of snacks as well. He loves if you tickle him. He is friendly with others including with strangers. But he hates to visit to pet and to bathe. I feel you must love cats… they are to be loved. 

STASHERS & CRASHERS

It was a sun-drenched day I, my family members were profoundly dressed. We were all of us at a wedding lunch. The reception was just started. The bride was splendid in silk sari and heavy gold jewellery, shone with inner joy, as the young couple greeted guests that were still coming in.

It was one of the long-established sit down dinners in Karwar, Karnataka, where we sit facing each other in long, unending rows. The food came thick and fast, sometimes too fast to stop a dish from landing on my banana leaf. I hate waste and kept looking out for the men who were serving us to warn them to keep their servings small.

It was at one such jiffy that my eye caught sight of the act. I saw a hand reach out and pick the large sweet from the leaf in front of its owner, and ferret it away into a voluminous bag in her lap.

I looked up and was going to call out. But I stopped myself, just in time.

A young girl opposite me had seen me watching and her eyes amplify in fear, and then cloud over. The lady I had seen was evidently her mother. The lady was still immersed in placing the sweet in a careful manner so as not to smash it. I sensed the girl’s humiliation at the fact that her mother had been caught doing something that made her seem lesser than all the others present, and looked away swiftly, concentrating on the food on my plate.

In time, stole another look. The mother was simply dressed in a plain silk sari. She wore no jewellery except a thin gold chain around her neck, a couple of thin gold bangle on one hand and a small watch on the other. The girl dressed in a cotton salwar- kameez, neat hair pinned to her oiled head, and hanging in plaits on either side of her face. On the other side of the mother, was another, much younger girl in a red frock, eating with concentration of the very young. The trio was very out of the place in that mixed jamboree. But, somehow, I was sure they were not gate- crashers. Yet, the action of the mother told me a story.

Her looks, her manner of dress, all pointed out to some silent struggle that her life must be, with two young girls under care.

The absence of a man in the group could mean he was dead, for the reason that a married Hindu female wears Mangalsutra. The food she was stashing away could be for their next meal.

I noticed, as the meal progressed, that she leaned across and picked out the uneaten puri from the younger girl’s leaf and placed them into her bag, too.

I was really glad I had not given in to my initial impulse. Drawing attention to the act would have given me and my cousins a few moments of discussions and levity, but could have done long standing damage to the woman and her family. And, anyway, food stashers are not such and uncommon lot. I have seen well off women, in jewellery and makeup, stash way cheese and fruit from buffet tables. Some of the most practiced shoplifters are women who can well afford to buy what they steal.

The woman in front of me was at least only taking away what she could not eat. Her eyes were guiltless and I am sure she would never be tempted to take something that was not really her right. Necessity, not voracity, was her motivation in this case.

I smiled at that girl as I got up to leave, hoping to commune some of the warmth and empathy I felt for her mother and her family to her. But, of course, she did not smile back. As I passed the rows of recently emptied chairs, I saw their occupants had left behind substantial amounts of food.

The rich, sweet, especially, sat forlorn and abandoned. Soon, the cleaning man would come with his bucket and sweep everything away to be thrown out, before out, before the table could be readied for the next set.

I thought of the woman at home, carefully taking out her swag. And wished we could share more readily what we do not want.

#beingrutujaa

Smile For A Cause!!!

The past week was massive. From my confined work agenda I hardly got time to be earnest towards blogging. Towards the beginning of the week my health went bad. It’s been always my priority to conceal the pain inside than flaunting over face. It’s never been a smooth transition though. 

It takes excessive amount of convincing skills to my mind when my body refuses to follow the rational thinking. Nevertheless, I'm a believer of happy go lucky idiom. 

And here I am flaunting my smile: D wherever I go.

 I've got a million dollar smile and I take it everywhere I go... 

But you know I keep it hidden deep inside my big ole head ...And I only take it out at night when I'm alone in bed.

It actually takes a lot less muscles to smile than to frown or scowl so apart from creating misery for myself and my body I believe to wear a smile always.

A smile is one of the most simple, inexpensive and wonderful things in the world.

Still, often we forget about this one powerful action while we get lost in the details of today and tomorrow.

I always wear a big smile on my face just before I say goodbye to someone over the telephone then they will "hear" it. Kindly, don't ask me to explain that. All I know is that it works. And every time it does work. All you need is to carry a smile with you. Try out with a friend. You will see that it is true.

The globe has enough sad populace with long faces. 

And let’s don't add to their ranks.

Smile. Make it your aspiration to put a big smile on your face before you get out of bed in the cock-crow. That’s how you will get off to a happy start. Smile as often as you can throughout the day. It's contagious. Usually when you smile a smile will be returned.

Smile. Go on. Do it right now! Did it make you feel better?

And yes, do let me know the consequences. 

A Poser

It was a fabulous evening on an exquisite shoreline of Southern Goa. Along with bunch of my best girl friends I was accompanied with my classmates and rest of my juniors.  Posing for the memorable shoots and snaps were for all time in our ‘must to do things’ outline.  Around 7.30pm the HEAD of the Department announced that we got to leave the place for the day.  Despite of all day fun and fair, my classmates were not ready to leave the place. Somehow we got into our bus. Everyone in the bus was too active discussing about the day and the next day to-do list, when something in the vehicle in front of me caught my interest.

It was a tempo. And for some reason, it came closer to our vehicle, I took a closer look. The back was open, of course, and dark. But something shone in the headlights. I tried leaning closer, and made out the forms of four pigs.

They stood swaying slightly in the motion of the vehicle. Their necks laced with rope that anchored them safely. It was the look in their eyes that caught me.

I wondered where I had seen such a look before. Then I recalled.

On my way to a market in Mumbai, I often pass a butcher’s shop. The skinned carcasses of pigs hang there waiting for customers to demand a choice piece. And, often, I have seen, to my dismay, a live pig tied at the food of the stall, just below the mass of skinned flesh.

The look in the pig’s eyes is unforgettable. It is not of fear. With the instinct every animal has, the pig knows exactly why it is there. It knows it will die. And the look in its eyes is one of resignation, a glazing over as if it could not care anymore.

If the pig could pray, it would probably hope for a painless end.

But I don’t think pigs are thus enabled. So there was no anticipation, no horror, only a quiet acceptance. It could not be the same pig, of course, day after day. But they all had the same eyes.

The same look now faced me as I watched these pigs juggling along in the tempo ahead of my bus.

It injured my heart. How terrible to know that death waited. Many might argue that pigs are only animals and cannot be attributed with feelings. But I choose to disagree. However it makes me wildly uncomfortable. Comfort would exist in thinking animals know nothing and live every moment for it.

But my familiarity tells me otherwise. And a person who has lived with or watched flora and fauna closely knows they have sensibilities, only they are dissimilar from that of humans. I know these pigs knew.

How mixed up we humans are. There is a part of me that enjoys ethnic cooking. Not too long ago, I ordered a kilo of biryani from ‘Saibini’@ Dadar west, which I relished at my dinner table. I am quite at alleviating partaking of a meat or fish dish if it is well cooked.

Yet, the notion of butcher, of killing an animal that can look at me with accusing eyes hurts me to my very bones.

I know it is not viable to expect the entire world to turn vegetarian. I wonder, in fact, if even I, born a vegetarian, can really give up eating the occasional cold cut or meat dish completely, Or if I want to.

But, as humans, maybe we could all agree to be more benevolent even towards the animals we kill for food. Treat them with compassion and not to kill more than we need, after all, all life is sacred, and needs to be treated with respect.