Marriage: An Over-rated Institution?

A friend of mine shared an article called 'Marriage: An over-rated institution?' which was published on women's web. You can find the link here. The author Rs Mom basically wrote about an office washroom conversation of three married women. What I find interesting is the comments which were posted in response to this article. Some women were pro-marriage while others insisted that it is a highly over-rated institution and marriage and motherhood does not suit or fulfill every woman. Also some of my husband's school friends are having a discussion on romance in married life and most seem to think  that after 5 years or more of marriage you should be given a Nobel prize if you do not strangle your husband!


Not that I am an expert of any sort on this, being married a measly one and a half years. But so much discussion on marriage got my idle brain thinking and I realize that just by observing married people around me since childhood I have picked up a lot about human beings and this institution. Without going into the complicated observations, some of the lighter ones:

Each marriage is as unique as our finger prints--Hold on, I am not asking you to appear for a biometric test for a perfect marriage (urghhh my brain is running wild). All I am saying is not only are no two marriages same, even an individual has varying perceptions of marriage depending upon the partner and the circumstances. So if a marriage ends in heartbreaks or tears, does not in any way mean that person cannot have a happy and fulfilling marriage with another partner in another time. Generalizations do not really work in case of marriages. Each one of us approaches it differently and behaves in it differently. So if your marriage is not going the way you feel it should and your smugly married friends or busybody female relatives tell you how perfect their marriages are, do not be disheartened. Work at it the way you feel best. They do not live with your husband, you do dahling.

Marriages are not made in heaven-- Come on whom are we kidding or passing the praise buck too? Why bring in heaven in this very earthly endevour?  Max I can do is thank my guardian angels for introducing me to my husband err through a mutual friend, so she should also be thanked, right? And all the work, effort, adjustments, compromises that go into making a marriage work is ours, just ours-- ours and our partners. So pat each other backs. That might bring in some romance in life as well.

Marriage is unfortunately a 24/7/30/365/all your life thing-y--wish it was like our jobs, wish we could switch off after 8 hours. But the sad news is once we marry it permeates our whole life, a bit like the sand particles creeping into all those tiny, almost nonexistent nooks and crannies of your self and filling up them tightly. The freaking truth is that marriage is a combination of rocks, pebbles and sand. So if you are not careful, marriage will creep into your being and totally take over your identity and before you realize you have no other identity except for your married self. This is how most women approached marriage for centuries. Sadly some girls still do it like that. Be careful, do not let this happen, stop the sand particles from seeping into those nooks. Whoa those  are yours and yours only, guard them zealously.

Marriage is about the good and the bad-- okay first the good bits
*You have a permanent date for life-- for all the weekends, movie nights, Val Day etc-- gone are the days when you had to frantically search for someone to go watch a movie with you
* You do not have to do dutch every time you go out (complicated calculations of dividing 77 rupees among three people and some such-- all those laborious ticking on the mobile calculator)

*You can force your husband to listen to your girl-y woes, involve him in the excitement of reading a chick lit or watch a rom com and/or bitch about people (though be careful he will give you solutions to your problems much to your frustration, will get bored with the chick lit and point out the illogical bits in the movie just when it got really mushy or ask for the thousand-th time why girls think/behave like that and discourage bitching or worse still ask you to go and clear the air with person about whom you were bitching  or more horrible call you an emotional fool...okay we were discussing the positives, lets be + guys)
*Sometimes he will be the perfect sweetheart and pay you compliments, get you gifts or flowers or both (happy days), give you surprises, take you out to dinner, organize superb holidays or basically do something really nice and kind and sweet [before you get too excited-- like all married women know these are really occasional (read far apart) incidents *sigh*]
* Hopefully you have found a best friend for life...but hey you still need your girl friends same as ever
Now for the negative ones--
* The snores (they can turn you deaf or mad or both), taking up way too much space in the bed [forget all those romantic cuddles, at that point all you want to do is push him off the bed]

* The mess in the house--however much you clean up the house, he goes around messing it right back...I know, I know some men are not like this, but sadly ladies most men are...continuing in the same vein every time he cooks, the mess he makes in the kitchen is simply unimaginable and the funniest thing is he thinks he is really neat...poor dear
*The tendency to skip baths, wearing the same tee shirt for seven days in a row[God has deprived them of half a sense-- smell of their own sweat], same jeans for a year[Conversation: Wife: You know you need to wash your jeans, you have been wearing them non stop for months without even washing  once! Husband: Really? But I just bought it last year. I wore my last jeans for three years and then it got really tattered (with a surprise in his voice) I had to throw it out and buy this one. So do not worry this will last me for two more years. We men do not need to shop like you women do (with a snigger). Also you know what washing is not good for jeans. Ha Ha Ha! Okay have your laugh. Just for records we women smell much better than you men, thank God and yes jeans can be washed too]
*We all know the manly characteristic of being glued to the television set for matches, news and other boring stuff and addiction to most juvenile video games (yawn) won't do an in-depth on those...

Some marriages come with expiry tags-- Yes sad but true...some partners choose to finish it formally/legally and some emotionally while continuing to coexist.  I know this goes against all the Yash Raj/Meg Ryan/ Julia Roberts movies you saw or the M&Bs you read. What makes it harder to accept this is that marriages come with 'in life and death, in sickness and health' tag and not 'going to expire by so and so year' tag. And looking at the smiles on the faces of brides and grooms in their wedding photos you would not guess that they want to end it in sometime, maybe except for Rani Mukherjee's teary expression in that extra-marital movie of Karan Johar's. Best thing to do is enter a marriage with an open mind and give it your best shot without tearing your heart into bits and pieces and get out in case it is not working.

Marriages is one big package of romance +friendship+ companionship-- Okay, okay do not throw stones at me. It is merely an idea worth thinking about. I know you all married men and women do not agree. Do not take me wrong ladies, but 'some' of you almost take a perverse kind of pride in telling the world how inane your marriage has become. To be fair to the men, they actually do not publicly bad mouth their wives. Come on lets lavish compliments where it is due. Tell you what ladies this view of marriage as some kind of boxing match is rather passe. Lets move from this clichéd perception and create this evergreen image of marriage where you enjoy spending time with your partner, even if not so much as your dating days, there is still some romance in your lives and you are happy being with him. And before you start thinking that 'let this novice spend 5 more years with her husband and then we shall hear her talk'...I am talking on the basis of some couples who have been together for more than thirty years. There something to ruminate over.

The list can go on and on, but time I stopped.

P.S. All the images are taken from the ever ready supply of google image search.
Disclaimer: Husband dear I love you very much, really I do!

Conversations with the self...

What am I in search of?
Is it work?
Just work?
No I don't think so...
I am in search of myself...
In search of the work that makes me...
Can work make me?
Yes, for me, it does...
I am certainly a lot of the work that I do...
I am me to myself because of the work I do...
So what about my relationships?
They are important, no very important...
I can gladly walk bare foot on hot coals for them...
But what I have realised is that my relationship with myself is
Through the work I do...
Am I limiting myself?
Is my definition of my self narrow?
Too work based?
Maybe, maybe not....
All I know work makes me happy, fulfilled and satisfied...
It gives my life a shape, a purpose and a direction...
Without it I feel all lost...
Like a boat, adrift in the sea...

A step ahead....

Remember the movie 'Catch Me If You Can' where  Frank Abagnale Jr. played by Leonardo DiCaprio was conning people of millions of dollars and was always a step ahead of the FBI?

My life is a bit like that, always a step or two ahead of me, going her own merry way, craving her own destiny. Sometimes she seems fit to fall in with my plans and dreams and at other times, she goes her own way without a thought or consideration to my plans or convenience. The idea that I am in control of my life is but a mere illusion and the very idea of being powerless completely freaks me out. My ego demands me to think that I am the sole pilot of my life. But at the risk of hurting my ego and diminishing my vanity, more and more I feel like there is a power, much greater than me who is running my life.

I will go the traditional way and call this power God. Assuming that God is running my life is a double edged sword, on one hand it absolves me of all responsibility, but on the other it renders me completely powerless.

I am wandering. Today my intention was not to talk about God but my life.  Taking a step away from myself, being an observer, I have realised that my life has her curious meandering path which she follows and I just fall in step with her. At times I am happy to oblige and at times, I get angry, I rebel, I protest and try to cling on. But very rarely did things go my way, follow my plans or my dreams. I am not saying that my dreams have never come true. On the contrary in most cases they have, but never at the time I wanted them to or the way I imagined. There had always been slight or significant changes, almost like someone mockingly saying that She can plan and run my life better than me.

I feel like I am a car set in a race track, I have been given certain advantages and some other disadvantages which brings of the illusion of being powerful. But someone has the remote control which has the power to keep me on the course or throw me off. Each car in the race is similarly controlled and we each follow our own course, we know the beginning and the end, we know the pitfalls and the soaring peaks. But we do not know when we are going to hit the pitfalls or reach a soaring peak. We are all driving like crazy, each of  trying to reach the maximum number of peaks and avoid all the pitfalls. But here we are rendered powerless, someone makes us fall into those deadly pitfalls and equally someone makes us reach those peaks. The idea is to keep faith in that someone that She would guide us through the pitfalls and has the peaks ready for us to climb and keep going. After all since we have been made the drivers of our cars means that we are special.

at this moment....

sitting in front of my computer, trying to finish a job application. yes i am back in the job market. the carnival i worked for, is over and wrapped up for the year...so time for a new job. as usual do not feel like doing this application (God I HATE job applications). instead thinking about all things good...mmm  at this moment if i had to wish for something, what would that be...

first one is super easy-- job, a long term, to stay in forever job with fab money and lots of travel...so that i do not have to make another job application for the coming 5 years...or better still ever...

flowers...lots of flowers...so many that our whole house fills up...

some nice candles....vanilla ones...they are so my favourites...

money to go on a long holiday...maybe to scottish highlands...

a day of shopping with as much as i can spend...i am thinking handicrafts...fairtrade...silver jewelery...some nice clothes...yes shoes...some home-ware...

a second holiday maybe in morocco or turkey...

a trip to india...with lots of time...to visit all my family and friends spread all over...do the goa trip with cousins...

to own a great camera and become a great photographer...

to...

okay i know it is just a little evening dream...so should not dream for way too much...but as they say unless you dream...:)

Down and out with a cold...

Remember those scenes in Hollywood movies where heroines have flu or bad bouts of cold and heroes  bring them soup and daisies? 'You've Got Mail' is a classic example. Meg Ryan looked super cute with disheveled hair and pink nose, being cheered by Tom Hanks.

Sadly in real life getting a cold is nothing romantic nor do heroes come to hold fort with daisies.

To give a little background to this sudden interest in  cold and flu-- in this sunless island I have managed to get a sun stroke. Was out on one of the rare sunny days, soaking the sun in, and lo and behold got a sun stroke just like I used to get in Delhi. Getting a sun stroke in Delhi makes sense, but here it is like being a feminist in Mars. Most people give me incredulous looks or think that I do not know the right words and phrases being non native speaker and all.
At the risk of sounding obstinate, I insist that it is sun stroke cos I have suffered from it many times in India. I even know the whole routine by heart now. It starts with a buzzing in the head and stingy, watery eyes closely followed by headache, bad cold, running nose, fever and body ache. Stays for 5 to 7 days and vanishes to strike some other unsuspecting victim, leaving me with a peeling nose and looking more puffy and anemic than ever. Best medicine is rest, sleep, hours of it, lots of fluid and hot passionate sex [ just kidding:)].

So right in the middle of a week which promised to be super hectic canceling work and commitments left, right and centre. Am sitting surrounded with tissues, inhalers, balms and only allowed to drink hot drinks (decreed by husband). Feeling mighty sorry for self, husband also sympathetic but too busy to play nurse. Husband wanting me to visit doctor, resisting mightily, do not want to be poked and prodded at.

Husband has essays to submit one after another, wife out of action by cold, hence one take out after another and dirty dishes piling up. The worst bit is that it gets really boring after a while.  Do not have the energy to go out, yet too restless to sit at home. Bemoaning lack of  entertainment and guilty about being out of circulation.

Sitting at home, brooding about everything and nothing, feeling emotional and prickly. Horror of horrors realizing how unkempt my surroundings are. Spying all the hidden dirt, unhoovered carpet, things away from their usual places and mounds of dirty laundry. Cringe to myself, was I not a clean freak? When did this happen to me and my house?  New resolve in life-- revert back to being a clean freak as soon as health permits. Husband beware, serious cleaning time ahead!

No getting a cold is definitely not a good thing to happen, in spite of how glamours they make it seem in movies.

P.S. Photo courtesey google images.

what is in your refrerigator?

i have a love hate relationship with my refrigerator. i love it when it is stocked  with food but at the end of the month/week when i open to find it empty  with  just two fruit flavored yogurt whose dates have long expired, some peppers, half a sad looking aubergine, half a jar of jam....i must say i hate my fridge then. i mean what the hell, why can't it be a little proactive and stock itself or hoard some food at least? today is not the day to be empty...it is Sunday and i feel like having sausages...why can't it figure that out and stock some sausages and produce them miraculously???


muttering darkly to myself at the unfairness of it all, i instead look at the cupboards hoping against hope that they would reveal riches/food beyond compare...wheat bites which are so horrible that we avoid it like plague, few apricots, a box of mint chocolates which i am not fond of (i am sure that is why the box has survived the month) and one lone soup stick which had evaded me this long and in the fruit basket two dead bananas.

it is such a depressing sight, i swear i feel like howling. but then life is sad and if at every turn we give in to the temptation to howl, i would be crying about 89.9% of the time....so i refrain....instead i  hit the couch and tell my husband that its his turn to make breakfast or whichever meal we are trying to have. my husband being who he is, does a cursory round of the fridge and  promptly rings some food place. once the fresh hot food arrives, i forget the sad state of our fridge and happily eat. but then the next day or during the next meal i confront the fridge again and come away feeling more depressed than ever. cos by now i know it is officially my turn and i could order some food from outside but if i do not take charge of this situation, we  would be forever eating out. also i like a well stocked fridge with loads of food options...


so i drag a reluctant husband to do grocery. invariably we leave the list (over which i have laboured) at home or find it two days after the entire exercise  in one of the pockets of our bag which we never bothered to check.  anyways so while i try to take stock and remember what all we need to pick up...my husband taking advantage of a preoccupied me, does his own grocery...   a bottle or two of wine, some smelly cheese, definitely some chocolate in which mint chocolate is definitely included...some meat to grill and the love of his life-- eggs  and for him grocery is over. with a triumphant smile  he is about to push the trolley towards check out,  at that instant my brain completes the mental grocery list, so with a smug smile i get him back to the shelves  chanting out the mundane things like pasta, milk, bread, veggies, fruits, yogurt, oil while he picks them up albeit reluctantly. some stuff like the bananas he protests vehemently over cos he hates them. so then we start a debate on what food we should eat with the banana in hand while some other person is desperately trying to reach for another dozen! just to be mean and to win the argument i point out that some of the stuff he has picked up are not good at all or way over our meagre budget....by now the other shoppers are giving us curious looks...i staunchly defending the fair trade bananas, while he is defending his wines.... we are suddenly rudely disturbed  when someone asks us to move from the front of the banana shelve...by then we have both lost stem, so like loving partners we compromise on our food... giving up some and keeping others.


 back home after the fridge is stocked i feel quiet proud like i should be given a medal or something for good stocking. for the coming week i am happy with the choices that my fridge offers me....but once they start dwindling i start getting irritated cos i know that the day when our fridge will have nothing is not far away. but i keep pushing reality away and soon enough one Sunday when you feel like having a big lazy brunch...the fridge reveals nada and i hit the couch while husband happily orders food...

Never cease?

Years ago it was the late night flights piercing the dark Calcutta sky. Sleepless I used to stand in my window and gaze at them with longing. From my window I got a clear view of the sky above. Sometimes it would be inky blue sky dotted with thousands of twinkling stars, sometimes a full moon would envelope the whole sleeping world into its silvery rays, sometimes in the darkness of a moonless night a black bird would silently fly by, sometimes it would rain so much that I could hardly open my window, except a crack.  Most nights the planes would go by. They would come into my view as tiny dots of light, grow steadily to reveal a silver machine carrying hundreds of people to a far away destination. I would feel terribly jealous of all those sitting in those planes, flying far, far away. Away from all the heartbreak, tears, the known and the mundane. I would foolishly think that traveling physical distance would absolve my pain and rid me of memories.
Now I smile at my  foolishness. How naive I was!
Thousands of miles later, I know that distance does not erase pain, time does. I know there is no easy way out, a broken heart does not mend itself quickly, nor are there any good medicines guaranteeing hundred percent cure. I know new pain takes over older ones. From life's experiences a new person emerges, fleshed with a bit of past embedded in the present.  But inspite of it all life goes on at her own sweet pace.
This time there are no planes in my slice of the night sky. There are  trains whooshing by, rushing off into the darkness. The carriages of the trains look to be in a great hurry, pushing and clanging, making a mighty din. They seem so sure of their destination, they look eager to reach that place and dump the load they have to carry. In the dark of the night, they look like naughty, noisy children rushing off to play. Once they pass by, the silver tracks look empty and bereft. A deep silence replaces the clanging sound. The night regains its poise and lulls us back to sleep. I look longingly at those rushing carriages  wishing I could be in one of them, crouched among the cars, or other goods they carry, or sitting on top of one of them, my face raised towards the sky, the wind kissing my face. I would not mind the discomfort or the cold as long as it took me to far distant lands, to the unknown, to some adventure, away from the mundane.
Will my longing for the unknown never cease?

The happy ending is you...

True, this week due to Republic day falling on a Monday there was no Monday blue. But sadly the Tuesday has turned out to be blue-er. It is a blue, blue Tuesday. Initially it was acqua marine blue, but soon the vividness, which was anyways blinding me, dimmed and slowly it is turning to prusian blue. I could stare for hours at this blue and not get any work done. But alas!

Latelty I have been feeling rather down and lonely, my life is going all on her own direction. Sometimes I get perturbed that life does not even bother to consult me. She just merrily goes her way dragging me along with her. At times I get angry. Hey it is my life, do I not get the chance to have an opinion? Most times I do, sometimes external forces dominate, sometimes life is just bizzare, does her own thing. And at times when I have been feeling blue for sometime, I just let go. I become a passive observer and watch from the sidelines. It is like all the things that are happening to me are not actually happening to me. I am not in my body, in me anymore. I am just a spirit, hovering over me and silently watching the journey. I dont know if I am able to make you understand what I am talking about.

I was aimlessly flicking through blogs when I came across a post with this title "the happy ending is you". Is it really true? Could the happy ending be really me? Do we actualy have that kind of power over our own lives? How do we stop people from being rude to us? Or for that matter how do we stop feeling neglected? I know you are going to talk about positive energy and positive thoughts and all those Feng Shui and self-help guru stuff. At times the spirit does not want to strive towards the light, does not want positivity and false hopes, all it wants is to sink in the prusian blue, which is steadily turning into a dark dark blue with endless pit and just get lost.

Saturday Evening Bluey Binge...

Saturday after working the full day, I was in the mood to be indolent and pamper myself. Got my cousin to go with me, wanted some beauty treatment. Hell I was tired of my bushy eye brows and my mustache. Wrong things grow on wrong sex. I am sure my mustache would have made a Rajasthani man proud, or at least a teenage boy who peeps into his mirror every 10 minutes hoping against hope that at least of hint of mustache has appeared on his chin.

While my eye brows were being pluckered, I kept debating whether I should get a facial done or not. I am still not used to these beauty parlours of Kolkata. I miss Blossoms which was on the ground floor of my home in Delhi, the convinience of the parlour, the gossips girls and their thousand questions about my room mates and me. Of course debate won in me being indulgent. Had the most horrible and undatisfactory stuff done on my face. Oh yes the most expensive to boot. Came out feeling throughly unsatisfied. What to do next, ah for a yummy chocolate pastry.
Conviniently there was a Barista next door, march into Barista. Order chocolate estasy with ice cream and all. There were a couple of people hanging around drinking coffee. Sigh! I can never understand how people can sit in a cafe and just drink coffee. I wish I could be like that. My cousin and I, we literally attacked the dessert, finished it like an army is about to attack us. That done moved onto sandwiches.

The food made me feel better. Finally it felt like a weekend. Called up Jayshree she was celebrating her birthday somewhere, was hanging out with a bunch of people from office, half of whom I dont even know. How time moves....in November I was part of that bunch...in January I dont even know half of the people. I tell myself this move of mine is for the best, better things are on my way etc etc. But on empty weekend evenings such pep talks fall short. What remains is the emptiness and the realisation that I need to work in fitting into my old life again. Once Kolkata was home, this was all the life I knew, I had all my friends here. I was the most comfortable here. But for too long I have been away. This had become the place where I used to come for vacations, when my parents would suspend their normal lives and be with me. Now I am back to living here, my parents follow their own rhytm of life, my old friends are mostly dispersed or busy. I do not live with friends anymore. Lots of things to digest and internalise. All the good mood created by all that chocolate estacy vanish.....................

What is the cure for loneliness?

Loneliness is a wierd emotion which hits you at strange times. In my eperience almost everyone of us have felt lonely at some point or the other in our lives. Some of us continue to be lonely. For some, the point they are in their lives, loneliness is a constant companion. For others it is an occassional visitor.


From experience I can say that loneliness has a way of growing into you. Once we get used to loneliness, then it becomes a way of life, a constant state of mind. It even refuses to let go when we are in company. Loneliness is something which needs to be combated conscuiously and dealth with firmly. We often feel lonely in the absence of our parners, sometimes when we quit a job, or leave a city, bunch of friends basically relocate. Scarier are those who feel lonely even in the prescence of their partners. Our hearts often childlishy wants back the old condition of life to be wholesome and non lonely again.

The last few months have been the most non lonely in my life. So today when suddenly loneliness knocks the door of my heart, I do not know whether to encourage it or not respond to it. Today is one of those slow days, it is a Monday, work needs to be done, most people I know are holidaying, rest are home, unfortunate few like me are out trying to work. These are the times when I wish I was a school teacher, at least I would get these vacations. I am having a bad inbox day and a true blue Monday. Since now I am back home, I cant even miss home and wish to go home for a vacation (confused, huh?).

Ok let me make a list of the things I could do to cheer me up--

• Eat Puchka
• Meet some friend
• Spend time with Ma and Baba
• Write a long letter/ page of my journal/blog...
• Read a book
• Watch a movie/television
• Go out with Tumpi or alone
• Beauty stuff
• Shopping
• Stare mindlessly at the sky
• Make plans for the future
• Have a heart to heart chat

Hmmmm. Where is my enthusiasm for life gone??????????????????????

Why do couples fight?

This is a light post not involving couples who are fighting seriously, filing for divorce etc.

My parents who have been married for the last 35 years, fight almost daily and those fights are mostly based on really silly things and embarass the hell out od my brother and me. While growing up I dont remember discussing the issue of parents fighting, I guess I was too embarassed about it all. One day in JNU hostel while discussing something or the other, this issue cropped up just by chance. And lo and behold it opened a huge plethora of reactions amongst my friends-- all the girls present complained about their parents fighting and how it embarassed them. I was amazed, at the same time breathed a sigh of relief that my parents are not the only ones who do such loony things, there are other equally mad people in this world. One of my colleagues once came about two hours late and when asked said that his parents were fighting and he was the alibi in that fight and therefore not allowed to budge!

When asked, my mother says that she enjoys fights, it breaks the monotony of her boring life and some such. Though post a fight, she hardly seems like she had gone through an enjoyable experience. Other friends report that their mothers report similar things-- that fighting with their husbands actually is a fun process and all that. It is best not to ask women much, once they open the list of complaints about their husbands, it is difficult to shut them up, my mother included.

When asked, my dad says that he does not enjoy fighting but ma is so impossible at times but he just cannot control himself, but he hardly enjoys the process. I have heard other fathers report similar things, the impossibilty or the immaturity of their 40 to 50 year old wives and how that forces them to fight. Men invariably don the cap of victim with the heavy burden of impossible wife. Being a woman, I know how untrue this is and how good men have it.

Cutting back to new age couples, my ten year older cousin sister is really sad that her husband cannot fight. She says it is the most frustrating thing in the world that one wants to fight, have a good roaring arguement and one's spouse is not cooperating, rather sitting there calmly with no sign of agitation. Previously I used to laugh at this-- I mean how funny can it be that the wife is all ready to fight and getting frustrated that the husband is not cooperating. But yesterday night I had a similar experience, I wanted to fight very badly with Indranil and he was not fighthing at all. Not that he is all docile and 'yes darling' type, his sarcastic barbs are of superior quality with perfect aim. But yesterday night he was just not cooperating and picking up my queues for a really roaring fight! I cannot tell you how much that frustrated me. Now I completely understand what my cousin goes through everytime my brother-in-law refuses to fight.

What I realised yesterday is that when we women want we should be allowed to have a good arguement, we should be given the space to vent out, have an attentive audience and that audience should also participate and make the process interesting. And then of course make up very mushily with chocolates and flowers et al. I think I should add this to Indranil's tor ;)
If he reads this, I can expect a fight tonight, what say????

Good Inbox Days...

What are good inbox days?

The days when you open your inbox or refresh it in the morning and there awaiting you are a couple or more emails. Ah the joy I feel on those days. I love reading the emails of my loved ones and friends slowly and sometimes reread, most of the times there is a smile on my face while reading.

The days get better if more emails hit my inbox throughout the day.

Even though I catch up with my friends on the chat, I prefer reading an email. It has the essence of a letter and can be enjoyed at my own time and pace. There was a time when Angira did not have chat access and we emailed each other about 20 to 30 times a day. These emails generally were very informal and sometimes would contain just one line. But I think we communicated way better than now we do on chat.

I started interacting with Indranil through emails as well. That time a strange email fever had gripped us both. We would be emailing each other once a day but that email would be the mother of all emails-- it would be about 5/10 pages long and be stuffed with thoughts. I remember getting up early early in the mornings just to check his email and enjoy it in the morning peace. He also used to enjoy reading my reply (he lives in a 4 hour later time zone) while sipping his morning coffee. Throughout the day I would plan what all to out in my reply. I would be having a foolish smile lingering on my face much to the delight of my friends who were ready with merciless teasing. According to Jayshree the expression on my face while I was reading his email was worth documenting. I am sure I must have looked crazily foolish and besooted!

Sometimes I reread those emails just to connect back to those crazy days.

And then there are bad inbox days like today. Apart from two mails which were waiting for me, not a single email has hit my inbox and not a single friend has pinged me. I hate these mostly because then I have no reason to take a break from work. Also somewhere it feels like my friends have forgotten me. On these bad days I usually get into cranky moods and then God save whoever crosses my path.

I know good reason and sound logic says that we should not let external factors control our moods. Payal always gives the example of Samantha from The Sex and the City. Samantha was one gal who was always happy or sad because of her own self and not anyone else. But I am sure Sam was also a human or rather a fictional human and she also was sometimes sad because of external reasons.

And then there are sappy inbox days when wierd forwards simultanously blessing and cursing you keep comming or one of your friends or nephew goes mad and sends about 20 forwards at one go. Then you just do not know whether to read or delete them.

Ugly inbox days are when a bad piece of news comes through a email, but it has the flip side sometimes happy or good news always comes through. But generally I hate opening those emails and they always make my stomach growl. The hate the moments when they hit the inbox and till I am reading them. If the news is good, then I relax, stomach settles down and I reread to confirm the news, if it is bad news, stomach becomes worse, I feel totally incredulous and immediately delete the email.

Anways, have a good inbox day guys.