To be...(..like there's any other option!)

Oh crap…just when things were beginning to look up…bam!! its Monday morning all over again! I had a fun weekend though… (and I say this even though most of Sunday morning was spent in the pangs of an excruciating hangover…) and so we’re back to celebrating “Nostalgia Week” right here on Surreal Surges… or at least I am! Yesterday I cut myself.. with my Swiss knife.. I gave myself a nice deep “owie” on my right index finger just below the nail.. being the big brave girl that I am, I immediately stuck my finger an my mouth and called mum.. this is somewhat how the conversation went..

Me: …mooooommmmyyyyyyyyyyyy!!
Mum: ..my baaaabbbbyy!
Me: it huuuuuuuurrrrrts!
Mum: my baaaaaaaaby!..(my mum, being MY mum, is equally ‘in’ on the drama)
Me: Waaaaaaaaaaaaahhh!
Mum (now the doc): So which phalange is it? Have you cut the anterior or the posterior? Have you put some ice on it? Apply pressure to the abrasion..
Me: Huh?

So after about another ten minutes of this and another half an hour of goss..(..we have a varied bunch in the family…there’s floundering cousins, and drunk uncles and simpering mothers..(mine being the only one who’s justified, of course!) to talk about) I got to thinking about the times in my life when I’ve had to make choices and decisions and when I thought I was being my bravest. Not your garden variety “oh fuck it..what have I got to lose” instant bravado, but the less common and more judicious “consider all the options and make the right choice” kind. Here they are, in chronological order…

Art School: This one was tough, it was! Coming from a family full of doctors and engineers..(my mum has five other siblings, four of whom are doctors, and my dad’s a doc as well and his brother’s a phd…go figure!) it was generally frowned upon to want to be anything but one of the above. I remember my dad actually asking me once if what I really wanted to do with my life was paint signboards! But all in all, once I made up my mind and got into art school..(.. of course getting picked seventh on the merit list out of two thousand applicants really helped.. Nirav my best friend through college, being sixth..) everyone generally resigned themselves to having an “illiterate” in the family and peace prevailed!

Getting my crew cut: Yes! Call me silly but I actually had to literally psyche myself into getting one! I knew I wanted it, had completely and utterly made up my mind about it, but once I was in that chair it was soooooo hard! I made the poor woman go through at least eight different styles before I finally had her chop it all off! Mum was actually ok with my hair cos I’d been telling her for the longest time that I wanted to shave my head, so she figured this was the lesser of the two evils!

Leaving home: With all due respect, I would have to say this decision was definitely more an instant bravado type thingy than the judicious kind. But in retrospect, I’m actually glad I did it. When I look at most of my friends leading protected lives and not having to make a single decision for themselves, I pride myself on having had the experiences that I’ve had. I’ve spent nights at railway stations, taken up jobs painting murals at night so I’d have a place to sleep, lived at seedy motels, hung out at coffee shops sipping one cold cup of coffee..(all I could afford..)..oh the agony and the ecstasies! But the toughest part of the ordeal was not being able to pick up the phone and dial mum..(that was possibly the longest time we didn’t talk to each other.. close to a month). So many “owies” I couldn’t report! And of course, readers will be pleased to know that I’m totally making up for lost time now! 

Leaving Bombay: I don’t know what’s harder.. running away from a situation or running towards one. Then again, isn’t running away from a bad marriage also running towards a better life? Anyways, that is what I did! I put on my clogs, packed the duffle and ran! There are times, of course, like with all else in life, that you sometimes wonder, (..with an objectiveness now, that only time has afforded me..) what if? What if I had stayed? What if he had changed? What if we’d had children..(..hey, wait a minute…we WERE children!) ..countless what ifs! I think on some level I waited for the longest time for my ex husband to come get me, to cross that line and put himself out…show me some sign that he cared and wanted us to try again…but that never came. And even though I know that I would never have gone back, that’s something I will have to live with…the numerous what ifs! And I also know that the experience has made me the person I now am and love..(Yes I do love myself! I mean, I have a whole blog dedicated to me and THAT comes as a surprise??!!??)

Moving to Bangalore: Months of contemplation! Agonizing and considering and reconsidering and re-agonizing over the considered reconsiderations! Leaving behind my friends, my familiar places, the dim sum brunches, the furious card playing at Diwali, the second-hand books at Saket, the lovely Delhi winters( with the barbeques and bonfires! Not sad about skipping the summers though…those are HARSH!), Varsha, Tarun, Neela, Desoto, Carbon… And the whole moving thingy! I mean, everyone I know looks at a single girl who lives by herself and say.. ”lucky bum.. look at her, all foot-loose and fancy free” but there’s so much work that goes into doing just that! I mean…and gawd! ..there’s the maid, the watchmen, the plumbers, the electrician, the carpenter, the finding-of-a-parlour-near-the-new-place, the home delivery guys, the gas cylinder, the laundry, the list is endless! It’s hard people! I’m not complaining.. I love it! I love the whole having my hands full but I also demand credit! And if no one pats my back..(I’ll just call mum again later for validation .. hehehhee)..I’m going to do it myself! But I’m finally here and it’s been a great ride so far!

Oh there’s been a few other times …like the time I only ran out of the dentist’s office twice before they dragged me back in kicking and screaming for my tooth extraction.. and the time I..(Yes me!! I’ve been in the operation theatre for caesarean sections and brain surgery!) almost fainted when they cut open Varsha’s cyst but recovered and went in there and let her crush my hand to itty bitty pieces… and of course the classic “pretty much ran away from any man who happened to even vaguely show a remote interest in me” but finally have a boyfriend (aren’t I just soooo brave!!!)


And even though I know there will be harder decisions to make in the future, like what my investments should be and even the really tough “should I or shouldn’t I have another one of those delicious French apple cakes this evening” …something tells me I’ll get by…