THE BIG FAT AMBANI BASH AT JAMNAGAR

THE BIG FAT AMBANI BASH AT JAMNAGAR-

How to prove to the world just how filthy, mind boggling rich you are? Mukesh Ambani must’ve been plagued by the question for sometime now.

Enter the Ambani’s pre-wedding bash at Jamnagar-

A spectacle of unparalleled opulence and extravagance- haute couture, statement jewelleries, ostentatious decor, sumptuous feasts, star-studded lineup from Bollywood to international luminaries, and business tycoons in attendance!

An unabashed celebration of excess and abundance for 3 days! 

And here’s the twist-

It’s not even the wedding yet! Just a prelude!

Whoa!!

Über rich with pots of money to burn!!🙄

#ambaniwedding

My KIDS, My Teachers!! The valuable lessons i learnt as a parent!

Parenting is synonymous with loving, caring, nurturing, teaching/guiding/mentoring your kids, and, quite often, disciplining. Where exactly one ends, and the other follows is not clearly defined. Often, they intersect!

As kids, we are emotionally reliant on our parents but as we grow older, get married, have kids and assume the responsibilities of a parent, we automatically switch gears and go at breakneck speed towards what we perceive to be the reason of our existence - our role as parents.

After being a mother for almost 20 years of my life, I feel that I can look over my shoulder at the years gone by and analyze it somewhat dispassionately. For a change, I will focus only on the parenting lessons that I've learned unconsciously over the years by being a mother.

1. Selfless love-

Selflessness, thy name is Motherhood. The moment that little bundle is placed in your arms, you learn to love unconditionally, completely, and that process is so organic. It is not forced or brought upon; it just happens naturally. Your child's smile lifts up your spirits, his slightest discomfort causes you pain, and you devote yourself one hundred percent to be a good parent. Other relationships become secondary, other emotions take a backseat.

2. Lifelong commitment-

Parenting is not a stopgap arrangement. Once you have a child, your life revolves around him 24/7, 365 days until they are an adult. After that, it is hoping that you have raised them well and being peripherally involved in their lives. As adults, we must give them breathing space so they can live their lives without us, parents, trying to control their lives. Having kids taught me what it means to be completely committed to another person and standing by him/her through thick or thin.

3. Being a good person myself-

You can teach and preach as much as you can but ultimately a kid follows what he sees and hears at home. I tried following all the moral science lessons (telling the truth, respecting elders, not wasting food, just being thankful and appreciative in life, etc.) that I was busy drilling in my kids. He had to see me following the dictums, for him to believe in its veracity and strength. So, by default, I became a much better person.

4. Value of Money-

That's one lesson I definitely learned after having my babies. The extravagant splurges and indulgences gave way to planned spendings and diligent savings. From saving for their necessities to their comforts, for their health and education, we learned how irresponsible our lifestyle was before. Now no expense was indispensable nor any saving too much. Want v. need was a very valuable lesson learned.

5. Enjoying the simple joys of life-

Reading a book, buying a dress, watching movies, going on a vacation, all the stuff which gave an adrenalin high were pushed behind in the ladder of happiness. The top spot was clinched by that toothless smile of my newborn. His gurgles, his sweet indecipherable sounds, his cuddly little body, all gave an unimaginable sense of fulfillment. Watching him crawl, learn to speak, and discovering the walk of life, took me to the mountain of happiness. Family bonding took top priority. Whoever said ‘the best joys in life are free’ knew what he was talking about.

6. Respecting the people in my life-

-my husband, elders, family members, neighbours, house-help etc.
Bringing up a child is never an individual effort; it takes a village. Right from cementing my ties with my hubby to appreciating the support system in my life, parenting made me re-evaluate the relationships in my life. I remain thankful to all those who helped me in bringing up my children. Without them, I would have been lost and floundered.

7. Reliving my childhood-

Seeing your little replicas with facial resemblances, behaviour, quirks is an indescribable joy. That dimple, that hair, that birthmark etc. etc. all bring alive your childhood in a tangible way. The nostalgic inputs from your parents create a warm fuzzy feeling about the cherished childhood memories and you get to relive those precious times.


8. Understanding & Appreciating my own parents--


You only realise what your parents went through once you have your own child! From our self-obsessed teenage tantrums to the difficult young adult phase, we don’t stop to think how much we are hurting our parents. Our own journey as parents make us appreciate all that our parents did for us. We start valuing their role and their 'interference' becomes more acceptable as does their sound, sage advices.

9. Every child is unique-


Mr. Sharma's son scoring 99% in class 10th, to Mr. Gupta's daughter becoming a junior chess champion, to Mr XYZ's child excelling in one or the thing, we parents envy the achievements of other kids and secretly want our kids to ace it. We love to gloat and we love to show off. Such uncalled-for comparisons cause immense heartaches to kids who feel inadequate and unloved by their parents.
Even comparing siblings by pitting them against each other unwittingly can cause self-esteem issues. I consciously try not to ever do this.
I learned to value my children for the individuals that they are, and I find them no lesser or any greater than others of their age.

10. I don't own my kids-


Last but not the least, I learned from my teenage son that he has a mind of his own. He has his own likings, preferences, ambitions and thought-processes. Our kids are not us. They have a right to their life. 
We can guide them, counsel them and if going astray we can pull them up but, on an average day, and all other conditions being normal, we can't live their lives for them. They should be given independence of thoughts and actions to make informed choices and be given wings to fly wherever their capabilities take them. Bottom line is that I don't own them. I never will. I never did. No parent ever did.


So, with all the lessons learned gradually as a parent - some reluctantly, I must confess - I find parenting to be the most wholesome, rewarding, taxing yet exhilarating experience of my life. The best part of it is that it's on-going and dynamic.

AGE OF EMOTIONS- Connected without Internet!

The Internet era  commenced in the past decade or so and has become an integral part of our lives. Modern everyday life is intrinsically dependant on internet and if per chance the connection is lost for sometime, we feel as if life has been sucked out of us and there is nothing worthwhile to do. 

'Net connection aaya ki nahin' remains the topmost query. When it gets finally restored, we have a sigh of relie!..Jaan mein jaan aa jaati hai!!

I wonder how we survived in the 80s and 90s without such frills! Regimented TV timings with a couple of channels, a standard fixed phone line, and barely any knowledge about the virtual world, we lived merrily in a self-contained manner.

We read books for knowledge, scoured newspapers for political news, heard radio for latest songs, went to the theatre to watch latest movies, sent letters and greeting cards to our friends and relatives to keep in touch.

Binaca Geet Mala, the top 20 Bollywood songs on Radio Ceylon, helmed by the man with a sonorous voice, Ameen Siyani, for aeons was the coveted program whole of India listened to earnestly.

Chitra haar on TV was awaited with bated breath, the songs played in it were discussed the next day in schools. People cursed if the electricity went off perchance during that time and they missed a couple of songs. Amitabh's songs were icing on the cake and his movies were a craze on the big and small screen both.

The onset of colour TV and VCR in mid-80s was an entertainment revolution. Poor quality VHS tapes were lapped up for the sheer thrill of watching movies at will in the comfort of their home. The whole family gathered in the living room to watch the magic unfold.

Neighbours dropped in on weekends to enjoy watching the evening movie together, sharing a Cuppa and having gupshups.

School diaries, slam books, autograph diary, greeting cards and titbit memorabilia were a huge hit amongst teenagers. They gave an outlet to our expressions of love, joys, friendships, pain, regrets, anger etc.

Buying greeting cards used to be an event. While sending it to friends was a customised activity (as per the occasion and the mood), buying Diwali or New Years cards for relatives was done in bulk and in a standardised manner. The one with the best handwriting in the house was accorded the esteemed task of writing inside the card and the addresses on the envelopes. What used to be a fun activity in childhood became a mundane chore later on.

With friends, however, it remained a sweet something, to write well and pretty, with different colour pens, decorating with stickers and glitter, drawing hearts and flowers, smileys etc.. It was as personalised as one could make it.

Photo albums were much treasured and a symbol of pride. A limited number of photos could be clicked in each reel and hence no indiscriminate click! Click!

Digital cameras and then smartphones with sharp cameras have led to a deluge of photos in a virtual world but scant ones in hard copies.

Technology has been a boon for Generation Y getting information and entertainment at the snap of their fingers. This digital onslaught on an individual's life is complete and absolute. Any personal preference to be a passive spectator and watch the circus from afar is scoffed at and one is pulled deep into the vortex of silliness and superficiality.

In this scenario, life without Internet for many is a suffocating experience.

Telling my kids about our non-Internet days elicits a curious and puzzling response, almost quizzical, wondering about the staid, dull life of their parents! When I go nostalgic and reminiscence about the age-old charm of LP records, they point out Spotify to me. Their sweet enlightening ways apart, I regret the growth of 'too easy, too available' culture where subtlety sleeps soundly and in-your-face, omnipresent, forever stalking Internet mafia lurks all around!

Can you escape their encounters? Not unless you wish to be labelled pre-historic by Internet gurus!

As a member of a generation which has witnessed both sides of pre & post Internet life, I find the obsession with Internet frightening. For all its advantages and benefits, our complete dependence on it and our weird, painful wail in its absence proves our slavery to technology rather than mastering it!

That said, the right to choose the availability, the limits and the extent, should lie with the users only. What good is something if it can be taken away by the government in power at will? 

The perils of Internet shouldn't outshine the thrill of it!

DHURANDHAR- Calls for discussion and contemplation beyond the apparent.

BEWARE OF VIGILANTE-

Critiquing a movie like Dhurandher is complex and fraught with perils of being misjudged . The social landscape and mood in the country is volatile enough to put one on the dock if it dares pass even a fleeting unfavourable comment upon certain things/issues perceived as sensitive or sacrosanct !

MASALA POTBOILER-

Now that most of adult India has probably seen this movie, the storyline needs no introduction. It has stirred up the audience in unexpected ways and created a mass frenzy by its songs, themes and dialogues going viral with funny memes flooding all social platforms. 

My personal take is that DHURANDHER is a thoroughly enjoyable Bollywood masala entertainer replete with right dosage of action, thrills, romance, intrigues, vengeance etc . In essence, a delicious potpourri served with dollops of patriotic flavours, linking facts with fiction deftly.

THE SWAG & THE DAZZLE- 

It’s USP is the brilliant acting by the all star ensemble cast, snazzy songs, taut screenplay and powerful direction by Aditya Dhar, the man of the hour! It brings Bollywood style panache and glamour to the real life gory, ruffian underworld with pedestrian looking dons and their sycophantic stooges.

An incredible story of real events- is the tagline. 

‘Incredible’ should be the key word. How tantalising it’s to imagine us as an all too powerful nation capable of all the superman stuff! 

It assuages the hurt and anger felt by the nation by creating an immersive experience into those turbulent times, and the catastrophic effects of terrorism unleashed upon India in the past couple of decades.

THE FACTS Transgress into FICTION-

Dhurandher has enough merits on its own to be a thoroughly enjoyable flick without lurking into the dark , dangerous and treacherous territories of neighbours to be a success.

Ranveer singh (the protagonist) could’ve very well been an undercover cop infiltrating an underworld gang aiming to incite gang wars leading them to their doomsday.

But then would it have been so impactful? Bashing in-house enemy can never match the adrenaline rush felt while checkmating the 'outsiders'! 

Hence the cross-over between the turmoil in Lyari area of a hostile neighbour and terror activities in India that time. 

Clever juxtaposition of simultaneous events in 2 neighbouring countries with no verifiable facts to connect the 2, creates a tense atmospheric trance for the audience drawing it into a vortex of known facts, unknown variables, guessing games, and ultimately getting consumed by the cinematic splendour of the movie. 

THE ORGANIC SUCCESS- 

Opening to decent figures at box office and jumping onto the gigantic amount of success is a testament to the strong foothold of word of mouth/ internet chain reaction , publicity when it comes to the world of entertainment. 

It comes organically and insidiously. You want to see it , if not for a personal preference, then to be able to chat, opine, to relish the flavour of the month/ year, whatever one may label it as! FOMO syndrome works overtime.

TREADING ON THIN ICE-

Dhurandher’s box-office juggernaut, growing from strength to strength and minting unprecedented moolah, is a revelation for movie watchers and the critics.

The film may not qualify as a landmark that redraws the contours of Hindi cinema, but it is unmistakably the culmination of a popular narrative that has been simmering beneath the surface for over a decade. What once crept along quietly has now found a wide opening to erupt; volcanic, spectacular, and irresistible in its scale.

One can only hope that this lava dazzles from afar without scorching our collective reason, empathy, and sanity.

Let the Raja beta grow up Indian mommies!!

Apple of my eye, my little munchkin, my guddu, mera raja beta, Indian mums are gung ho about their son. They love their daughters equally but the sense of pride they feel with a son is unparalleled!

Even when a foot taller, bearded and trying hard to be all macho, he has a task cut for him, protecting his cheek from doting kisses of a fawning mother.

If it would only stop at kisses! Nope, Sir! Mother hens go overboard in fawning over their offsprings. They get fixated on their male progenies like anything. From his nursery days till school and college, Indian mothers hover around their sons obsessively.

They love it when their daughters consider them their centre of world but their hearts swell with immense pride when their sons inform, discuss, consult on even the most inconsequential stuff in life. If per chance the little guy fails to do so, he is chastised in no uncertain terms about his lack of reverance for Mother superior, the nomenclature made to order for mothers in India.

Most of the time, mothers even get to select a wife for their ‘aankhon ka tara’. They sift, scan and finalise a demure simpleton for him. But behold! In just a few weeks and she transforms into a femme fatale, twisting their dear boy around her delicate finger. They mistrust this intruder but are helpless. They are infact asked to grin and welcome this interpolar. They do so grudgingly with a plastic smile, putting up a charade of warmth while secretly determined not to let a ‘stranger’ usurp their dearest and most precious possession. They swear to stamp their authority in their sons’ lives in the most aggressive and intrusive manner possible.

Thus starts the interference and control of son’s life. She is the Mommy and Mommy always know best, or so it is claimed. Hence her conception of ‘best’ imposes and infringes upon the personal life and space of her son. She never learns to take a back seat. Privacy and independence are alien terms to you. So she continues with her controlling act and the tussle for ‘power base’ – with her holding it back and the children pulling it with all their might – continues unabated lifelong. That unfortunately is the sorry state of affairs in many a household in India.

This dominance of the Queen Mother is nowhere more defined and established as it’s in India. From Shravan Kumar who carried his blind parents on his shoulders to Ramji who abdicated his rightful inheritance to do his stepmother’s unjustified bidding, the mum-son equation is paramount in the scheme of things that make the family-structure function seamlessly.

The birth of a son is a major achievement in a woman’s life, across all classes of indian society. It is a trophy or a distinction which accords a superior status to women automatically. Naturally enough, they are most reluctant to hand over this trophy to the next generation.

Fortunately for Generation X, the influx of globalisation and the emergence of nuclear families as a natural corollary of the same, is facilitating a less acrimonious change of guard. The most pious relationship in the world is getting redefined and realigned in sync with the shift in new age thinking and philosophy of “Love me? Let me loose!!”

You mommy dearest have to learn to loosen the strings of possessiveness because only then mutual respect will grow leading to a wholesome, deep relationship between you and your children.

THE POWER OF MATURED LOVE ❤

Love has got to be world's most potent and most volatile emotion. The amazing thing about romantic love is that it is unique for each couple depending upon their relationship dynamics. And every couple's love story has its own graph- the ups vs downs, intense vs indifferent, comfortable vs annoying etc..their love travels through different phases at its own pace and is never static.

If we talk about matured love or love between a couple in their forties, who have been together for a considerable length of time, then it is very different from the puppy love or youthful infatuation between a younger couple.

After years of being together, the attraction and combustion is replaced by compassion and understanding. You don't count the hours to meet at a restaurant looking your best, rather you count the hours when the hubby returns from his office carrying the bakery or stationary stuff you reminded him to bring home. Instead of you rushing to greet him with a warm hug n kiss, it's the kids who overtake you in exchanging pleasantries. 

Any privacy is no longer sought to jump into the bed for action but to slump down and slowly share the day's hectic happenings. Priorities change gradually and before you realise you become uncle and aunty from Bhaiya and Bhabhi. The wrinkles and grey hair crop up surreptitiously and catch you unawares. Piles of extra kilos surface over the years and you stop weighing yourself for fear of landing into depression.

Life is tougher now but infinitely more fulfilling. From making plans for your own future you shift to planning for your kids' future because you know somewhere you have peaked professionally and personally. At forties, love becomes a homogenous mixture of respect, companionship, appreciation and dependency. The sore points have been sorted out and the irritants ironed over. 

Trust and loyalty are the two pillars of a long standing relationship. After investing heavily (emotionally and physically) into your partnership you want to keep it going.

Love in forties is stable and secured wherein you bask in your partners care and attention. It's gentle and soothing unlike the brash and fervent youthful love. It completes you and defines you as an altergo of the other.

Life begins at 40s some say, love too comes onto its own during this time after the jittery, nervy, volatile initial years of courtship, matrimony and series of adjustments in your relationship. It settles finally into a soothing, calming presence in life. From occupying the centre stage for years altogether, it receds to the background but does not fade away. It becomes firmer and more grounded. It intensifies into a solid, secure sea with none the nervous energy of youthful spring.

But love till 40s stays strong only if nurtured properly. Negligence and/or bickering takes the sheen away from it and it shrivels up to die forlorn and lonely.

Like life, love is most unpredictable and the only certainty attached with it is its longevity. Love outgrows life and generations and the best love stories are not of your college sweethearts but of you parents and grandparents. Even if procreation is the goal, love gives it a glamorous avatar. Falling in love and making love makes the world go round and are root causes for many of mankind's wars and progress.

There is no debating the power of matured love and like vintage wine, the older it gets, the better it tastes!

Three cheers to LOVE, the elixir of life! Drink it, savour it and preserve it.

SASURAL- The destination home of Indian Women

Every Indian girl gets acquainted with the word 'Sasural'(marital home) quite early in her life. It is after all the place she's supposed to go and live after her marriage and which will be her 'real home'.The presumption being that her parents'place is simply a temporary abode for her till the time they find her a suitable boy of a decent family. This is a stark reality of the Indian society. No matter how educated or liberated a family is, settling the daughter of the family into another house is the biggest concern for them and they are willing to spend a major chunk of their resources for this noble cause!
Learning to cook, to knit, sew, and honing of other household skills are made mandatory for girls from a young age, with a long sighted mission of impressing  the sasural walas. Behave like a lady, dress appropriately etc are the other rules and dictums guiding the girls with the sole aim of fitting them into a 'sasural' well enough and gaining acceptance. Most of the girls fall in line because it is supposed to be the done thing. Apart from the primary focus on education and recently on professional degrees, girls have to be good 'housewife material' to lead a happy life after marriage.

Now why is that sasural such a dreaded word? Why is that the majority of girls wish to marry guys living away from family due to their jobs? Why are nuclear families so much in vogue and why is living in sasural such an ordeal for most of the girls? Is it selfishness, individual preference, aversion to adjust with another family, or pervert indoctrination which instils fear of 'the unknown' in an impressionable mind since childhood? These are pertinent queries which need to be analysed to get to the crux of the complicated dynamics between a girl and her sasural.
The ogre in the sasural is ofcourse the mother-in-law, the woman whose son you marry. Invariably Indian mothers are excessively possessive about their sons. They are excited about the new member of their family but also apprehensive about her. They fix up their guards and armour themselves with verbal weopanry and sarcasm if needed, in their dealings with their daughters in law. The mother-in-law too has been told all her life that when the son gets a wife, he becomes 'paraya', a feeling which is an anathema to her. Thus starts her internal duel of accepting and appreciating her daughter-in-law while simultaneously keeping her on a tight leash to maintain her superiority. This tussle often creates a battlefield in the house with the men being poor casualties in the cross fire between the two women.

Every household talks about treating their daughter-in-law as their own daughter but that is seldom the case. No sooner than you enter The Sasural, that your life ceases to be your own. Apart from the mother-in-law, there are other family members too who have unrealistic expectations from you. But with tact and patience, they can be won over a period of time. The husband's siblings can become your friends and the fathers-in-law often indulge their bahus. But they are of fringe importance when the major driving force in an Indian setup is the mother-in-law, pleasing whom is a herculean task.

What is really ironical and tragic in Indian society and for girls living in the designated home after marriage called 'sasural' is that they are never given their just desserts.
They spend years and years, trying to find their moorings and space in life, to settle and 'own up' a place physically, emotionally and psychologically. But like many unlucky women of their ilk , they remain destined to play second fiddle to ' the rajmata' of the household. They perform duties and are expected to do them well but dare not challenge the supremacy of the family matriarch. Any effort to change the status-quo is resisted and trumpled. Some women surrender their soul at the devil's doorstep but some develop a spine and a voice and try to get their feet up in a constricted space.
Women marrying into joint families or where mothers-in-law occupy a sacrosanct place, suffer from major identity crisis. Even the tag of 'housewife' is compromised for them and they can't take pride in it because the title of 'lady of the house' is in the battleground. They are merely glorified housekeepers; raise children, keep the house in order, neat and clean, provide warm meals to all, entertain stream of guests and most importantly, never ever complain.

The major reason for such a stressful equation between the two most important women in a man's life is because the 'change of guard' seldom takes place. The passing of the baton to the next generation is deterred as the older generation is fraught with insecurities and complexities. The tug-of-war continues for many years, sometimes lifetime making none the wiser. The emotionally battered clan of daughters-in-law seek their chance of redemption and ease out their bitterness when they marry their sons and acquire a daughter-in-law. Unconsciously and unfortunately, they tread the same path and thus the vicious 'saas-bahu' cycle continues.
Lately though, there has been a didactic change in the way girls perceive sasural or life after marriage. Armed with women's lib talks and exposure to the world wide change in the status of women (especially since most of them are now professionally qualified) has led them find a firmer footing in the manner marriages are being conducted. Financial independence has helped them find a voice and courage to speak up when needed. Infact sometimes even when not needed!

Sincerely hoping for the times when the sasural ceases to be a dreaded cauldron, lit up to burn a woman's identity and intrinsic worth as a sensible and sensitive person. Waiting patiently by the side for the times when a mutually respectful relationship develops between 'the destination home' and its new member.