Tag Archives: heartache

Cooking up a storm!

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I am 26. I am single. I am a female. In India, that’s enough to set people rattling off about marriage and family planning. In my case, more advice follows about learning to do tasks that suit a woman in the house than one in office. To name a few – cooking, stitching, birthing, being graceful, looking pretty, being an ideal daughter-in-law, the ideal wife, the presentable new addition to the family. These were my bones of contention with a man who would have almost cut me off at the knees, stopping just in time as he rightly realised the bloodbath that would follow. Needless to say, I didn’t take it well. Oh yes, I didn’t take his abstaining well! And I console myself thinking many others wouldn’t have either. Love has mysterious ways of revealing the real you. What do I do to ward off the very things we parted ways over? Do those exact things to prove myself capable, to perfect myself, to console myself that he didn’t fight hard enough for me.

So I cooked the other evening. There were reasons, of course, which had nothing to do with proving to myself that I could cook. Or so I tell myself. I was procrastinating working on my manuscript, at some level of my subconscious. The mood to write just wasn’t right! So cooking. Also because the cook hadn’t turned up. And my flatmate couldn’t be fed take-away with a running body temperature of 102 degrees! So you ask what is the big deal about cooking? Well, there isn’t. At least in my mind. Except, people around me (read: relatives, the ones who call me twice a year – on my birthday and on their birthday to remind me that I’d forgotten about them. Well, I didn’t forget you. I chose not to remember you.) think it is a vital sign of being a good wife. And here I thought I should prepare to commit myself to a partner, whole and soul. I don’t particularly enjoy cooking. Maybe because most of my favourite dishes are best eaten raw! Salads, sprouts, fruits, milkshakes, sandwiches! But like everything else, I like to do it well, whenever I do cook. And lo behold! I cooked the main course for three people with stunning ease and a record time of 40 minutes. Of course, I’m only talking about rice, lentils and a curry, but hello? It was stomach filling, soul-fulfilling and lip-smacking – with a serving of ghee added to it. To all those skeptics and cynics, why do you keep cooking up a storm?

When the time comes, life teaches you everything. Or it perishes you. Why do you have to keep pushing people into a box, trying to fit them into standards, forcing them to keep up with how the world was fifty years ago when you were our age? Why is it still expected of women to be the ones running the house and holding together the fort, while encashing cheques at the month end? What is the man bringing to the table except for the money? Pray, tell me, if it was just about the money, then as a woman with financial stability and an understanding of financial management, why do I really need you men? Maybe a little consideration? Maybe join me as I flunk ‘Cooking 102’? Maybe let’s have a good laugh over how easy calculating ROI is compared to roasting the wheat flour just brown enough to not burn it for the halwa? Maybe let me sit around and watch you churn a chocolate banana milkshake for me? It’s about wanting to run the house with my partner, rather than for him. And if he isn’t ready for it? Well, then he needs to haul his ass from the couch and come stand by my side like a man.

Oh also. I can stitch a button on as good as I can your lips!

Graciously Yours!

Yearning.

I yearned for your touch. You slept two feet from me but were miles away. I wanted to reach out to you and run my hand down your arm. I wanted to feel your rough hands caressing my face. I wanted my slender fingers to run through your hair. Involuntarily, my hand went towards your heaving torso. I wanted to feel your heart beating. Was it thudding as fast as mine? I pulled myself together just in time. I adjusted the pillows between us again and went out into the balcony. Tomorrow I’d ask for a separate hotel room.

I don’t know when I fell in love with you. Worse still, I didn’t know when you fell out of love with me.

Graciously Yours!

Picture Courtesy : Colourbox.

2 days to go.

With 2 days to go in 2014, here’s one of my most important life lessons:

People will come and people will go. Good times won’t last as long as you want them to. Forevers don’t exist in reality. A relationship, any relationship, takes work. Sometimes the other person will feel your love to be constrictive enough to even let go. Trusts will be broken, hearts will be shattered, and tears will flow. And in spite of all of this, life does go on. With the dull pain thudding inside you, life still goes on.

Graciously Yours!

Love you’ll never know.

All of us have memories. And sometimes a place, a song, a word or a picture is all that’s needed to bring them rushing back; the good, the bad and the beautiful — all of it.

That smile I adore? I wish that was for me.

Those eyes that sparkle? I wish they did that when they fell on me.

That charm which rids people of all worries? I wish you tried it on me.

The shoulder you lend me to cry on? I wish they were mine to hold.

The fingers that trace my palms? I wish they were entwined with mine forever.

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The love that you feel for her? I crave that you feel for me.

Beneath all my smiles, all the fears, all the snuggles, all my tears, is a love that’ll never fade.

That love which you’ll never know.

Graciously Yours!