People

It was only after I moved away from home, family and madras, did I get a clear perspective of what people were really like.

After living all my life in one particular kind of environment and routine, I had no real ‘separation’ to see things for what they were.

You realise whom you thought of as overbearing was just a caring sister.

The person who questioned your decisions and criticised your actions was only being a true friend.

The colleague who spent every night at your place was probably just sponging off you…

Put some distance. That's when you get a clear filter.

That’s when you learn to separate the chaff from the grain.

Like the management joke that goes – not everyone who shits on you is your enemy, not everyone who pulls you out of shit is your friend…

It’s merely a myth that the more time you spend with a person, the better you know him/her. You need distance to gauge a person.

After being ensconced in a routine of sorts over the last 5 years, I got my distance and my space, when I took a break for my second pregnancy.

So you move away, and see yourself and the people around you from a telescopic distance. And their character just pops up. Like pieces of a puzzle things just fall in place.

The insecurity behind a person’s martyr act;

the defensiveness behind a person’s long drawn explanations;

the rabble-rousing behind the uncalled for confidences;

the guilt behind a person’s exaggerated laugh;

and also the trustworthiness behind a person’s brutal honesty;

straightforwardness behind their indifference;

the care behind the non-stop calls;

the warmth behind the silence…

You get to see people for what they are when you remove yourself from the environment.

Just as distance is supposed to make the heart grow fonder, it also helps in shaking yourself out of false intimacies.

But that doesn't mean you won't repeat the mistakes, trust blindly and get taken for a ride. It just means that you fall a little less harder the next time around.

Antenatal hormones can really bring out the philosopher in you.

Marriage Stereotypes and the ‘Catches’ we make!

I seem to be doing this way too often. Linking other people's post, and expostulating on it. Why don't I just comment there or shut up?
Probably because I’m a journalist, so when I run out of ideas, I rehash other people’s cues.

Anyways, this is to MG's post -- I was splitting up after reading this. How inane is that dry cleaner lady? Silly woman.
About 9-10 years ago, in a situation like that, I would have gotten terribly upset. But now I just find it ridiculously funny.
Why do typecast people in a relationship?

When my relationship with R took a serious turn and we decided to get married (or rather our families decided for us), a friend (yep, a friend hmmpph!) snidely commented to me, "quite a catch, huh?"

I was STUNNED. What shit was that?

We not only had similar educational and professional backgrounds, I in fact had a few extra diplomas thrown in.
She hardly knew R to decide he was a catch in any other way, unless she thought her dumpy, bespectacled friend was marrying a not-so dumpy and un-bespectacled man?

And even if I had been illiterate with no future prospects and looked like the backside of an ass, and he was the heir to the Gates’ fortune and looked like Clooney, how the hell can anyone use that phrase ‘a catch’.

Is marriage a charity? If two people decide to wed, they must have their reasons. Even if it’s an arranged marriage. There is no question of one being a catch over another.

Probably because I am far more secure in my relationship, and am older and wiser (!) I can laugh this off…

Like this conversation between Acquaintance 1 & 2, which a ‘pal’ reported to me not only verbatim, but with her share of insights.

Acq1 (who at that point had met R & me for all of 90mts, half of which was with a group of people): V & R are very different.
Acq 2 (who knows me professionally and has only had a glimpse of R): Oh, yes. They are. He is very nice.
Acq 1: Absolutely. So different. He is very sweet.
Pal to me: How can they jump to conclusions, they hardly know you.

ME to R, my sounding board: What the eff! Whether they jumped to conclusions or not, Pal was sure they did… And what difference does it make to me to get opinions of people I don’t know or care for? Why was this even reported to me?

That’s the whole problem with expectations, marriages or any relationships. The two parties are placed on a balance with their plusses and minuses.

Absolutely no one outside of the two would know the truth of the relationship or the reasons why it works (or doesn’t). So why talk about catches and one being too good for the other?

So whether MG looks or really is romantic, or not, it was really not that stupid dry cleaner’s business. It’s for MG and her husband to know and find out!

The good kinds that make my world...

... as opposed to the weird kinds I mentioned in an earlier post.

People tend to think I have a bustling social life. And that my weekends are a series of parties. That I have more friends than most. And I always wonder, what the hell gives them this impression?

I am 34. I’ve been to 2 schools, 1 college, and 4 vocational courses. I’ve worked in 5 different companies. I’ve been a member in 3 different gyms/clubs.
I know people who would have used every opportunity to make friends, and build a hectic social life.

My friend Yauleen collects friends likes Imelda did shoes, and nurtures them like they were her sole sustenance in life.

But through my years of school, college and workplaces, I’ve been friendly enough with people, socializing with them, getting drunk and having fun. I keep in touch with most of them even today. However, are they my ‘friends’ as in my bum-chums, as in my shoulders to cry on, as in laugh till you pee, as in fart without a thought, as in confess without fear of being judged, as in till death do us apart?

The simple answer is: Nopes.

There are friends who would do good in one situation, but not in another.

There are very, very few who are my all-weather friends. And I place so much value on these friends and am so used to the ease of being friends with them, that I find it difficult to make news ones easily.

I’ve been thinking real hard on who my can’t-do-without friends are. If I were asked to choose as many or as few of them as I want, and keep them for life, at the cost of the rest, who would they be?

I came up with 5 names. I am tempted to say JUST 5. But I know that would sound greedy.
And of the 5, except for the first, I just can’t choose one over the other.

1. Roshan. My husband. I know it sounds all soppy and clichéd. But the fact is R is a better friend than husband or boyfriend. Over 12 years of knowing each other, and nearly 10 of being married, I still wonder what inspired me to marry a guy who was – to put it simply – a lousy boyfriend. We were not good friends who ended up together. It all happened simultaneously. I know one of the reasons I married him, and the reason I continue to be married (despite some very trying times) is because he is my best friend. It would break my heart to lose such a great pal. He knows just about everything about me. From my email passwords to which parent I prefer; from my pet peeves to my moments of hypocrisy. And he never judges, and never holds me ransom to the grave and embarrassing confessions I’ve made to him. Even when I am depressed or angry and feel I am done with this marriage, I know I am not done with his friendship.

2. Teesu. She is the only one in the list who is most like me. If I ever nag and harass and dump on anyone (barring R), it’s her. I met her in 1992-93, at college. We liked each other right away, but became friends over a period of time. We both shared a passion for letters. And we even now write a letter or card to each other, though we chat almost daily. Over the last few years, she has fished me out of terrible bouts of depression and loneliness. She is an awesome listener, and can be quite honest. She is a proper mother hen, and can make you float with the way she cares. But frankly, as great as all these qualities are, the reason I really will hold on to her for life is because she is MAD. Everyone needs a mad friend in life. She is mine.

3. Sangi. We’ve been together since high school. And we are SO different from each other. She loves to dress up, is artistic, but is in a boring profession (to me), very hardworking, can get her way with most people, loves to window-shop, is religious and disciplined when it suits her. That just about sums up what I am not (I have the interesting profession though). She is also the person whose habits and attitudes I most disagree with. S and I ended up doing things in tandem – we fell in love, got married, moved out of the country all within weeks of each other. She is someone I am so comfortable with, I can drop in unannounced at her place. Something I am uncomfortable doing even with family. We were there for each other, in a phase of our life when were metamorphosing from insecure adolescents to slightly more confident youngsters taking baby steps in our careers, to confident women who were ready to take the plunge and set up our families. If you can survive all that together, that friendship is for keeps.

4. Renoo. I laugh the most with her. Sometimes at her. The reason she and this friendship is so special is that she is worse than me at making ‘friends’. So let’s say I feel chosen! We were in college together, and have known each other for 17 years. She was the brain of our group, always willing to help us with our work. She was the only one amongst us who behaved and looked a lady. It’s very difficult to have a serious conversation with her. If you have a problem you want to dwell on, she is the last person you ought to ring up. But if you want to forget or trivialise the problem and have a hearty laugh, put her number on the speed dial.

5. Mythili. She is the only friend from Doha. I met her in my 4th year here. M is very different from all my other friends. And why I chose her for this list is not because of what she is to me, but for what she is. I haven’t come across a simpler, more accomplished and more just person. She forgives without an effort, is sensitive to other’s needs and goes out of her way to help people. Yet she never looks a martyr. I made friends with her on the very grounds that I thought I never would – your child’s playmates parents. We lived in the same building, our kids went to the same crèche… but I do believe that I didn’t strike up with her for convenience. She is just so warm and positive, you feel like being around her. Even when she is upset about something, her response is: Why is this so? How can I change it? She is the one friend on this list I kind of look up to and learn from. I am sure she has no idea I would put her on a list such as this, as I bully her all the time, despite the fact, she is 4 years older to me.

PS: I do have a gang of friends, my ya-ya sisterhood. And I have 2 dear friends I’ve made in Doha, Yauleen and Seetha (now in Abu Dhabi), and I do hope I would never have to make a choice to exclude them for the sake of the 5 mentioned.

PPS: Re-reading this, I guess, I do have more friends than most. At least Friends who matter. Mazel Tov!

EMBAAAAAARRRRRRRRRAAAAAASSSSSSSIINNGG

Yesterday, a bunch of us went for a bbq evening at a beach club.

Because R & I are the only 2 journos in the group, people tend to turn to us for expert opinion and inside news on various issues -- from the US financial crisis to Singur to Doha losing the 2016 bid.

We spoke about politics and business, and between us we were able to neatly cover the issues. R provided all the details and facts, while I gave my pompous opinions to make up for what I lacked in knowledge.

And we yacked and gossiped about celebrities.

That's when it got so bloody embarrassing. I knew so much about their personal lives. Who is/was with whom, Rahul Gandhi's ex-girlfriend, Karan Johar's preferences, Kamal's obsessions, Nagma's conversion, OMG, I even knew intimate details about Rakhi Sawant.

I, seriously, seriously need to stop reading online gossip, and ponder more over the state of Singur, Nuclear deal and the Ambani feud.

it takes all kinds to make this world

and it takes a lot of weirdos to make the expat world.the expat world is a surreal one. everything is transitory... more so than in the real world. and the state of temporariness can unnerve you a great deal.
it’s just not about thinking a million times about buying ‘good’ furniture (and then settling for made in malaysia rubber wood rip offs);
it’s not about going back home every year, year after year, because the company pays annual passage (this is changing, and quite a few opt to travel and see the world);
it's not about the job insecurity -- do we really buy this SUV? what if i lose my job and am stuck with the monster?;
it's not about buying as much property in as many different cities/towns in india, to keep up with the joneses;
it's not about your passbook being your favourite read;
it's not even about choosing to share your apartment here, so that you build a home enviably big enough, to spend you retired and tired life.

the temporaryness is worst when you are trying to build your social circle, when you are trying to make friends.

people are so wary -- what's the point really? you take all that effort and build relationships, and come end of contract, voila! the person moves on.

this is something i can't get used to.
that a lot of friendships here are for convenience, and like much of life otherwise, disposable. use and throw.

in the decade (nearly) i've been here, it never ceases to surprise me, how selfish and ruthless people can be in getting the best out of every encounter.

when you are still naive and new to the expatworld, it's easy to be taken in, and respond rather foolishly to friendly overtures. and then you get taken down hard, when you realise that it's about how useful you are to the person. people are so caught up in the temporariness that surrounds them, they think it's fine to apply the same in relationships.

it may well sound like i'm whining. and maybe i am.

but when you are used to a cushioning of good/great friends, and land in a place that's as dry as a desert (pun unintended) in this context, then you've earned the liberty to crib.

the other thing about this world is the extent of disgruntlement.

everybody seems to be disgruntled -- not merely by their lot in life, but by those who are or seem to be doing better than them.
this again is rather incomprehensible -- how do you ever get peace of mind, if your happiness is dependent on other people's woes?

the expatworld not only turns regular folks into weirdos, it also seems to attract a whole bunch of congenital weirdos.
i find myself displaying certain weirdo symptoms, like being suspicious of a lot of people. fortunately, what i talk about below is not one of the weirdness i have adopted.

there is this one trait i've come across so often here in people, i almost believe it's a gulf syndrome.

people carry tales. so if x (whom you barely know) has unpleasant things to say about you to your 'friend' y, then y will not only give ear and participate, but will report the useless bit of information back to you.
now, how bored or jobless should you be to do something SO pointless?
i am not exaggerating... but this happens so often, and to so many people around me, i am quite convinced the affliction is caused by something in the water.

i've made a couple of great friends here (more about them another day), and it would be a grave injustice to them if i don't mention that there are exceptions to this weirdness.

one upmanship by any other name

why is it so difficult for us to take a relationship as is? to not compare it with another?
you are not happy just being loved by your mother, you want to know how differently she loves you, how much more, did your sister get a bigger/better piece of the cake, are they more proud of your achievements than your siblings'...
but it's not just about vying for your parents' approval or attention. it happens at every stage of life.
is your bum-chum a little too pal-ly with the other friend? are there secrets that you are not privy to? does he/she have more fun with other people than with you?
then at work. it's not enough to be thrilled with your appraisal or bonus, you need to be more thrilled than the next person. your happiness is not necessarily pegged to the nature of your promotion or the hike in your pay, it is also influenced by how much more you've earned than your colleague.
and all those insecurities and fear we transfer to the most important relationship in our life... with our children.
it's not enough if he/she is smart at school, we search for a position, for a reference point... smarter than x, y or z's child? but if you catch on to this early, you would be wise to put a stop to it -- to not weigh down your child with your unrealised ambitions.
it's fortunate that i don't come from a polygamous society (though, i live in one) -- i am the only one he has, so apart from some wishful thinking, there is little else he can do. and i can be complacent in the knowledge that he has only me to come home too...
or am i being naive?

girl pals vs guy pals

i often hear women tell me that they get along far better with guys than with gals. that they find it easier to confide in men... and i wonder how that's possible.
i've never heard a guy tell me he gets along better with the girls. that his best friends are women not men!
is it my all girls school/college upbringing coupled with a household primarily made up of women? three sisters, mum, helpers, sundry cousins and aunts dwarfed the influence my dad and the few other visiting men had on our lives.
even after all four of us were married, only one gave birth to a son. so the dominance of women continued... my brothers-in-law and husband are most often spectators to an amusing (i assume) show. i am married into a family where again there are more women.
so for me, despite the sizeable number of 'good' male friends, girls are the best buddies.
but for all that, in most places i've worked, i've been amongst the minority. For a total of 4 years of my working life, i have been the only woman in the office/department.
and i feel that's the best work environment to be in for me.
when it comes to colleagues at work, i prefer the male of the species.
not because of the total myth that they gossip less -- oh man! can they gossip. and with such viciousness that we women can't even begin to compete.
i like them because they are low maintenance. they don't complicate -- a word is not given a thousand unintended meanings. they don't break into tears at the drop of a hat. they can take a professional argument without assuming it's a personal assault. and if you are not particularly inclined to carry your professional relationship outside of the workplace and become 'friends', they can live with it. as is always the case, there are exceptions to this rule.
still, when it comes to bonding and buddy power, i need my girls.
apart from my husband, i can't think of confiding in another man the things i would to a gal pal. there are things i wouldn't confide even to my husband, though over the dozen years of knowing each other, he probably is my best pal.
so, the judgemental me, wonders what insecurity in women drives them to claim that a being who shares none of their physical, emotional and mental patterns, is a better friend than one of their own.
is it because they haven't met the right women? or haven't i met those right men...
but how would i discuss with a man my pms woes, blood clots, morning sickness, sexual satisfaction or lack of it, the soreness of my breasts, the discomfort of discharge, the lack of good bras, the need for a good sob, the humiliation of being ogled at, the highs of being wooed…
how would a man understand things about women, that the woman herself hasn't fully yet?
a salute to my gal pals. and to the guy pals for being great, even if they are not my best, friends.

what's your measure of a friend?

over the years, growing older, wiser and more tolerant (my blog, my boast, so stop smirking!) i've come to realise that there are no set parameters to weigh a friend. in fact, you shouldn't even attempt it. there are characteristics, unforgivable in one person, that will be tolerated or ignored in another.
and you should not make demands of friends. you can have reasonable expectations of them. that they should defend you when you are being maligned. but you can't demand it.
there maybe broad filters on which you choose a friend -- can't be a rapist (other crimes like murder and theft can be considered on a case by case basis), preferably sane (but this again can be compromised), can't be a spouse-basher, can't be a mormon (they don't like outsiders, so why should we like them), etc, etc...
but you can't go deeper than that.
yet, so often you wonder what drives 'friends' to do 'non-friendly' stuff. for instance, why would they report a conversation to you, about you, that actually does little else but upset you?
and why some friends feed of your grief or sadness... i know some who look almost stricken when you begin to feel better mentally!
below is a forward from a friend who though a little insane, to her credit is not a mormon, criminal or spouse-basher (i think)... and that kind of sums up what we should expect from a friend.


The Socrates Triple Filter Test
In ancient Greece, Socrates was reputed to hold knowledge in high esteem. One day an acquaintance met the great philosopher and said, 'Do you know what I just heard about your friend?'
'Hold on a minute,' Socrates replied. 'Before telling me anything, I'd like you to pass a little test. It's called the Triple Filter Test.'
'Triple filter?'
'That's right,' Socrates continued. 'Before you talk to me about my friend, it might be a good idea to take a moment and filter what you're going to say. That's why I call it the triple filter test.'
'The first filter is TRUTH. Have you made absolutely sure that what you are about to tell me is true?'
'No,' the man said, 'actually I just heard about it and....'
'All right ,' said Socrates. 'So you don't really know if it's true or not. Now let's try the second filter, the filter of GOODNESS. Is what you are about to tell me about my friend something good?'
'No, on the contrary...'
'So,' Socrates continued, 'you want to tell me something bad about him, but you're not certain it's true. You may still pass the test though, because there's one filter left: the filter of USEFULNESS. Is what you want to tell me about my friend going to be useful to me?'
'No, not really.'
'Well,' concluded Socrates, 'if what you want to tell me is neither true nor good nor even useful, why tell it to me at all?'

The F Word

People are rather easy with the term Friend.
People they work with, live next door to, car pool with, are all referred to as FRIENDS. Being Friendly with someone does not mean you are Friends with them.
For me the F word is sacrosanct. I don't like people taking liberties with it.
I would never call myself someone's Friend, unless I've earned my place as one.
And I won't refer to someone as a Friend, unless they have earned their place in my life.
I am not talking about signatures in blood or duels won.
But there has to be some give, some take.
Give a little time and confidence, take a little humour and joy.
You don't have to labour over your friendship or draw an agenda and work on it.
It has to come easily, but not taken for granted.
It has to have a meaning. A responsibility. A duty. A commitment.
You need to be able to fart and burp without embarassment (an 'excuse me' is mandatory tho'). You need to be able to count on them.
Just because we share a workspace or parking lot does not make us friends.
We need to share an interest, a worry, a laugh, a cry.
We need to share the good and the bad times. And we need to share those mundane, boring days, as well...
We need to fight freely and vocally, knowing well that the fight has helped us understand each other better.
So next time you call someone a friend, pause and ponder. Are you worthy of the F word?

Flash from the Past

A photo. 4 gawky teenagers, grinning widely into the camera, sharing a joke, that even after 15years still brings a smile to our face. We remember the outing, we remember the exchange, we remember the hysterical giggles and shrieking laughs. We remember it all.
A picture that takes us away from the mundane routines of our lives. Home, office, children, husband... A picture that not only triggers lovely memories in the four that are in the frame, but the 5 who are on the other side of the camera.
Do you ever wonder, that memories are rarely in video mode. It is more a series of snapshots, almost like a cartoon film. You flip through those images quickly enough, and it plays out beautifully.
The reason I consider myself truly lucky is not merely because of those images, that I have those memories...
It is because all those who made those memories what they are, are still very much part of my life. My sisterhood. A link where all of us are in touch with each other, either directly or indirectly. Touchwood, none of us is estranged. Busy, pre-occupied, sometimes down, sometimes indifferent, but never estranged. We are all in different places in our lives. Our priorities are different. Yet we are there always for each other.
And that is saying a lot for women, who tend to wander away from their best friends, their best memories once they are married.
... I keep looking at that photo, that one of the gang dug out and sent to all of us. I also keep thinking that we were better looking than our low self-image led us to believe then ;)

Just...

We just wanted a girls' night out.

Drink and smoke with great abandon, without fear of setting a bad example to our children.

Just hang out, and feel there was not a care in the world, other than getting hope tipsy and safe. The husbands indulge: they would take care of the kids.

Just 3 girls, wanting a night out. After weeks of planning and re-scheduling, we hit the only easily accessible joint in town. Everything about the place, from its name and rickety tables to the patrons and the music, was askew.

But we were determined to get drunk. And being drunk would be the only way to enjoy that dig.

Tequilas and cocktails fail miserably in their endeavour. They barely draw out a few giggles from us.

An hour before midnight Cinderellas start discretely, and then not so discretely, looking at their watches. And then call out the men to drive us back home.

Where we having fun? Oh, yes, we were. That was for sure. But somewhere in all that wanting to cut loose and run wild, mommy-strings were tugging at us. Has one been fed? Is the other up? Are the men watching violence (and whatever else) on TV while the children are around?

Are these creeps around us -- young and old, really the alternative for what we have left behind at home for the evening?

Apparently not. Final analysis:

We girls do need to go out and have some fun -- Get drunk, get high, smoke ourselves senseless. But the beauty of it is, our life is not so screwed up that we need to do it everyday.

Just that one night in ever so many moons, when we want to be just girls. Not wives and mothers.

Just Girls out on a night for some Unadulterated Fun.

Just wish Doha had a few more decent joints to do that.

In Need In Deed!!

Ever realised that the friends you stand up or stand in for, rarely reciprocate? And those you least expect atually help?
Living away from home has taught me a lot. Especially an expatriate dominated community like here.
I have learnt that the more you help, and the more you accommodate, the more you are made use of, taken for granted. And the same people will go out of their way not to help you.
While I have realised this, I still have not learnt to be unaffected. I havent learned to to say no. I end up being rude and sweating the small stuff, but ignore the bigger problem.
It depresses me that I should bring up my daughter in this atmosphere.