Normalcy

What does it mean to be Normal in today’s standards? I think I am expecting way too much. Normal according to the dictionary means the usual, typical, expected. You know it was normal for all children to play in the park, you know that green square in the middle of the of the houses with trees on the side and all. It used to have a small cricket pitch in the middle along with a run down slide on the side, plus a place where the girls would play hopscotch and some times marbles with the boys. No body, I mean nobody had a chronic disease that convinced boys to go around raping him or her. Normal also meant walking in groups in the neighbor hood and not getting singled out as being “ fast and of a loose character’!

Life earlier also meant eating food, the kind that is taboo these days. Paranthas and simple aam ka achar was staple for the day; now heaven forbid you ever ate something so mundane, it is only muesli and oats. Didn’t you know that you clog your system by eating all the fatty Punjabi food? Hey, instead of running to the gym and burning away those carbs and proteins just revert back to the lifestyle our ancestor’s gene coded us for. We are suited genetically for this kind of food, the kind dadi ma swears by, small portions, the dal chawal kind. No one ate dark chocolate before or measured their almonds. What would happen if you accidentally ate too many nuts?

A bigger butt, maybe but hey nothing would happen, you wouldn’t die! Chill, relax, take a deep breath enjoy the mundane the normal. Why does your plate have to be a rainbow of colors? Oh according to the holy grail of dieters and food nutritionist’s, that’s the guide to healthy eating. If they wanted us to eat the Mediterranean way we would all have been there; last I looked all dal was brown or yellow and the sabzi had the life saving yellow turmeric to save you from Parkinson’s.

Normal is boring staid and comfortable. Too many people are trying way too hard to be out of the ordinary and different. Yes be different, move with the times but don’t become bizarre with outlandish ideas. The world is changing way too fast and we have lost our tolerance to others, giving haphazard explanations justifying our actions in every sphere.

And , then my pet peeve is also the fashion I see around me. Last I looked the girls were having a tough time wearing clothes so tight I figured they didn’t need to diet, they just stitched the clothes on and didn’t breathe. I know I would just pop my buttons just dreaming my chocolate. And men, leave the color to us , please be men don’t go around prancing and preening yourself in rainbow colors in you jeans. That is one disaster gone wrong. Why cant jeans be jeans rather than be shape , lift lengthen your leg? And , then my poor salwar suit? Oh when did you become this crazy piece of art ?

I wish it was all  boring, normal and staid, kahan gaye who din ????

Waiting For Aloo -Pyaaz

It is easier getting aloo – pyaaz and even matar in this country of devis. I have been waiting for justice since the turn of the century but what I witness is a warped sense of justice, delay and procrastinations by the best of them. This is a flashback like the Hindi movies, you know the good ol times when they had those rewind scenes where one would see why the heroine died after falling in love with the rich landlords son but is raped by the villain.

There that is the key word’ the rape ‘. I have said it loud. We witness it everyday in every form but have become so desensitized that we are just not affected. A woman is against her wishes; mind you however she is dressed at whatever hour of the day, even if she eats chow Mein has all the right to say NO.

She is physically overpowered, raped by a monster systematically, subjected to infliction of pain, of penetration by foreign objects with an attempt to kill and we still debate what should be the course of action.

Please, commissions, protests are done and made and what do we do, we debate. Are we a nation in permanent slumber? Countless girls are raped, shocking statistics point out that one in three men rape. Wah! Wah! No wonder we support the MNC’s of the world eating fast food thus men are not guilty because they didn’t have the animal instinct but eating fast food made them the way they are.

We talk, debate and we think it is a big thing that they have been proven guilty with an intent to kill. My dear Indians, what more proof do you need that they were invading her, raping her to kill? Or, did you think they were raping with the intent of being nice and careful.

What does not get in your head?

You know those pilgrimages you make to exonerate yourself from sin to go to heaven, no use till your voice in not heard. They needed the death penalty immediately minus any plea- bargains.

Please, do not politicize. This is the last chance for us to resurrect ourselves like the phoenix…

A troubled soul of all countless women 

Once upon a time

Jugni wanted all the love dovey, the stars, the magic and the moon. Well, what she got was a different story; apart from the grey hair that refuse to color. Oh! Why did the obstinate gene along with the stubborn streak all pour out on the hair? Jugni had tried everything but it just did not want to be tamed. Maybe all the repressions were being manifested in a sublime way in the hair. And that was enough for Freud to analyze on.

Every girl, every woman is brought up on a steady of romantic chocolate romance, where we all want to be wooed, to be given flowers, romantic walks at night minus the machhar, and the crazy spider thread that invariably winds up one’s face (I am sorry being such a kill the romance mood; but hey someone needs to have a reality check).

I along with every woman on the planet want that ooh sexy voluptuous figure, the perfect complexion along with the accessories to die for. I mean, you have got to be kidding me if you say, Oh no I am above all this, or no no I am a feminist, a woman of the 21^st or is it the 22^nd century. Yes, be that and all more, but hey what is so bad about looking good?

Yes, we have peer pressure, subtle competition amongst the species, a rampant hyperactive advertising industry on steroids that keeps on shoving the perfect IT woman in one’s face that is so difficult to match! But we all want till we don’t shift to the Himalayas or is the new Scottish island of Baba Ramdev to attain gyan.

Life is not all chocolate and roses, oh I meant orchids or what ever is the currently the flavor amongst the society, it is reality and loads of compromise and if one gets a bit of companionship, love, peace and happiness well. Enjoy!

Don’t fret over the romanticized Victorian love we all read, just chill be a bit selfish and enjoy the clothes and diamonds  or the new bag.. live a little woman and be your own Jugni
! Arif Lohar could never hold a patch on you !!!

Once upon a time

Jugni wanted all the love dovey, the stars, the magic and the moon. Well, what she got was a different story; apart from the grey hair that refuse to color. Oh! Why did the obstinate gene along with the stubborn streak all pour out on the hair? Jugni had tried everything but it just did not want to be tamed. Maybe all the repressions were being manifested in a sublime way in the hair. And that was enough for Freud to analyze on.

Every girl, every woman is brought up on a steady of romantic chocolate romance, where we all want to be wooed, to be given flowers, romantic walks at night minus the machhar, and the crazy spider thread that invariably winds up one’s face (I am sorry being such a kill the romance mood; but hey someone needs to have a reality check).

I along with every woman on the planet want that ooh sexy voluptuous figure, the perfect complexion along with the accessories to die for. I mean, you have got to be kidding me if you say, Oh no I am above all this, or no no I am a feminist, a woman of the 21^st or is it the 22^nd century. Yes, be that and all more, but hey what is so bad about looking good?

Yes, we have peer pressure, subtle competition amongst the species, a rampant hyperactive advertising industry on steroids that keeps on shoving the perfect IT woman in one’s face that is so difficult to match! But we all want till we don’t shift to the Himalayas or is the new Scottish island of Baba Ramdev to attain gyan.

Life is not all chocolate and roses, oh I meant orchids or what ever is the currently the flavor amongst the society, it is reality and loads of compromise and if one gets a bit of companionship, love, peace and happiness well. Enjoy!

Don’t fret over the romanticized Victorian love we all read, just chill be a bit selfish and enjoy the clothes and diamonds  or the new bag.. live a little woman and be your own Jugni
! Arif Lohar could never hold a patch on you !!!

Obituary of A Parantha

Obituary of the staple Parantha

It is with a very heavy calorie ridden heart, I pay my respect to the yummy, delectable Parantha. It has been the staple of us, the Punjabis but has suddenly died a sudden agonizing death by the onslaught of the fancy schamncy, rules-schmules of the new age fad dieters. It has been labeled as a fat guzzler, the dripping ghee sponge bomb.

Even the generation X children don’t want, “ mama it smells in the tiffin; my classmates make fun of it!” the pressures of growing up so made complex that our identity is under threat. Now, it is the well-balanced 180 calories brown bread sandwich cut into perfect triangles lathered with low fat butter with thinly sliced cucumber. Never mind, that on the way back the child will coax his mother to buy the latest chip packet that is the fad along with a doughnut. The mother will indulge not because it is good for him or her but will do because she is seen at the ‘it ‘ place, wearing the latest tight colored jeans along with a bag heavier than the dumbbell at the local gym.

My dear delectable yummy parantha so lovingly stuffed with aloo, has vanished off the breakfast table, along with the one of a kind ‘ aam ka achar’. Apparently, the calorie count is too much for our bodies.

It has been laid to rest in urban India replaced by the bland (good for the heart) cholesterol and the attack of the Cornflakes. We have been all sold; hook line and sinker that eating these cornflakes makes our thinner, sexier in two weeks in a red sari. They also make you stronger, smarter, give you energy and balance away the bad cholesterol.

Here, I agree that all this is true, but to lay the blame on the homely parantha is wrong. If we would get off our delectable backside, and do some work and not expect miracles by eating cornflakes and sprouts, we would do well.

Don’t blame the ordinary Punjabi gene; it’s our sense of eating wrong that makes us go fat and ready for a heart attack.

The parantha however, for now has died a death wrapped in the newspaper till it is resurrected by a famous celebrity and then we will start eating it.

Till then it is the bland , tasteless muesli for the uber urban folk , while I am guilty of eating a stuffed parantha with achar . Last heard, the new age dieters had recently packaged the aroma of the parantha to be released in intervals when the hunger pangs set in. Hmm ,a new solution for the babes and the metrosexual men of today.

Please pay your respects by eating one in its memory and help Punjab get rid of it s wheat buffer stock. Contribute is the new mantra.