What the F

Uncertainty can be certainly miserable. Undoubtedly, overwhelming it seems, it gamuts multiple emotions, especially in a global pandemic like now. The window with glazed sunshine of the ever fresh rays of sun often fails to brighten the mood in a lockdown like this. On a second thought, the baby kite sitting on the fence catches my attention. There are days when the community looks sanguine yet gloomy and I miss the children including mine laughing, running on their scooters, playing with one another while we parents share our moment of chats, banters and a quick conversation. It hasn’t disappeared altogether, but is now added with a fear. Fear. We always lived in fear and continue doing so. Fear of death, fear of being robbed, fear of being cheated, fear of being judged, fear of being laughed at and the list is endless.
We are scared again. A sneeze, a cough, a moment of suspicion when we look at each other, a strange fear engulfs us every time we shop, we bring things inside our house. Funny that this time, it is justified to have the fear. Ironically, we never really feared the wrath of mother nature, we never feared the world crumbling down, we never feared the idea of leaving a shallow world for our generations to come.
All of a sudden, the fear holds supreme stature. I wish, it did so when we all had to. We indeed are a confused society. When we should fear, we don’t, when we shouldn’t, we do. We are now busy understanding the new formed fear, that we forgot F also stands for fun. F also stands for Fruitful moments with loved ones, F also stands for freedom from our daily grind temporarily, F also stands for Focusing on positives, in the present and living with daily goals.
F can be freaking challenging on certain days, but isnt it a better challenge than the photo challenge posted on Facebook? F doesn’t only mean Facebook. F means focusing on things outside Facebook. Frenzied moments with a child, fulfilling the need to do things that never got one’s time, furloughed employees coming out of the erected facade of the society and frantically watching the idiot box and stumbling upon the realization that, F can be so much besides what the F!
Sipping a hot cup of coffee post 10:00 pm is an usual activity for me, that I often now a days enjoy with some nibbling thoughts, or a book, or a recipe to ponder over. Amidst all this, lack of creativity, can make my life so freckled. Then comes the fear of futility. Another F! What the F? Why the F?
Heart, then says, eliminate the fear. Be fabulous. Be not fragile. Be like the fragrance that comes from within. Follow your instinct and you wont fathom much about the F!
Setu.

Dar ka ghera

Dil ki gehrayiyon me jab dastak deti hai tanhayi,
Sawaalon ke sailab khauf khata yeh chota sa dil,
Zindagi kin andheri galiyaron se chalkar is maud pe hai ayi.
Masoom, umardaraaz, unch neech ka na karte hue lihaaz, maut ka saya apni bina aahat wali kadamon se saikdon ko lekar jaata hume is asmanjhas me chor jata ki ab kiski hai baari.
Safed chadar me lipto hui lashe, kuch apno ki kuch anjaan ki, hai to saare insaan hi.
Na kisi ka mazhab poocha na kisi ka rang,
Corona ke dehshat ne sab hi ko kiya tang
Bun gaya dawai ki paheli, kabhi na machi hogi aisi ek huddang.
Woh dabang sipahi, woh dariyadili sevak, woh raubeele wardi walo ko mera salaam, jinhone na kiya koi phikra ki kya hoga unka anzaam.
Na baba ke jhaad se, na kisi dawai ke vaar se, na maa ke ashirwad ya dular se ho rehi hai yeh takleef kam,
Ab to tu hi malik hai maula, tera hi hai raham or karam.
Hamare ku karamon ne apna parinam dikhaya, poore insaan samooh ko nigal ke khaya,
Phansi hai isi ke ilaaz me sab ki jaan,
Hum sab hai hatash aur pareshan.
Na koi bandhu na koi sanghi sathi,
Tu baitha hai chati pe jaise koi ek hathi,
Prakriti ki lalkaro ka mazaak udate hue hum prani
Kitne ho gaye the agyani
Waqt ki maar ne hume aisa ronda is baar
Kar li hai humne apni galti sweekar.
Ab shama kar do prabhu, bhool ho gayi hai humse
Is sankat se karo hume muqt na bahao aur laghu.

Dil hai chota sa, choti si asha

Dil he chota sa, choti si asha
Asha ki wapis ho savera pehle ke tarah
Bhor ki hulchul me school ko nikle bachon ki bas dwaar se uthati unhe,
Neend bhari aankhon me jaan dalne wali chai ki pyali ki tazgi ke chalte, sab apne apne zindagi me phir se ho rame.
Na subah beetne ka pata chale, na shaam dhalne ka, thak ke bachche gehri neend me agle din ki dincharya ki khushi seene me liye phir soke uthe.
Dudh wale ki ghanti ke sath ho phir se nonk jhok,
Kaam wali ke late ane par ek do tane ane pe ho na koi rok
Bartan majhwane ke beech, jab gas me seeti hai bajti, bagal wali bhabiji poochti kaise ho aaj behen ji.
Kheeli kheeli se dhoop jo aangan jo karti hai roshan, sabzi wale ki awaaz se mohalla me ata hai uske badhte kimato ka ek tashan.
Daanti hue use dadi ji karti hai theek,
Isi beech har gareeb ko mil jati hai ghar do ghar se bheekh.
Isi chahal pahal me ho jati hai bhari duphari,
Ab dekho dhoban aake samne hai tehri,
Maile kuchele kapde dete hue kuch idhar ki kuch udhar ki baat karke halka karti hai aurate man ka bhi maail.
Sandhya chadhte hi ghar phir se bhar jata hai logon se. Thake mandhe chere ko milte hai amma ki pyar bhari thali se tripti,
Wohi raat phir se ati hai jisme na hota hai corona ki hatasha aur nirasha ka dar.
Dil hai chota sa, choti so asha,
Zindagi ho phir se wahi, yahi hai meri abhilasha.

My hospital story...an informative piece for many pregnant women and others too! Please read

Pregnancy in itself can be a very overwhelming phase, where you are creating a baby and gearing up for a new responsibilty for life. Each and everyday is full of care, concerns and happiness, or let me call a mixed set of emotions. One starts to see life differently and can only be understood by the couples who have been through it.

Having said that, every pregnancy is different, even for the same woman. When we planned our baby, we had a rough road ahead of us, bearing a minor loss and doctors giving up on my husband's reports and then God intervened and I conceived naturally. I always believed in the fact that pregnancy isnt a disease and it is a condition so nothing changes much. You just have to tell yourself to stay positive, active, exercise and continue to eat healthy rather than stocking up and gaining wieght unnecessarily.

September 7th 2013 onwards,when I conceived, I was living a healthy life, exercising regularly, definitely with modifications, going to college and pursuing my studies and also doing my daily chores and groceries etc. It aint easy in a way during the first trimester, but it is all about what you tell your mind and it does listen to you. Everything went off well till the 25th week, when I bled from nowhere and almost went into a pretem labor. I was in the hospital for two days being given two steroid shots to develop my boy's lungs in case he had to be delivered early. Living in the US, with the world's best care espcially in pregnancy, for which this country is famous, doctors couldnt find a definite answer and all looked normal. Bed rest in pregnancy is not recommended anymore since it does more harm than benefits ,lest you are a high risk pregnancy case. However, I was sent home the third day and life again continued with multiple bleeding episodes and hospitalizations. With multiple growth scans, doctors derived that problem is not me but my placenta, an organ that forms when you are pregnant; giving nourishment to the baby through the mother. In ninty percent cases, a placental abruption can't be seen in ultrasound. My placenta was anterior placed and mostly it is posterior placed. It showed no haemorage. Doctors only derived it when my baby's belly measured small and less than 5th percentil and he was small for gestational age as compared to other babies. Now this could be genetic since we Indians are not as big as Americans. From 25th week to 30th week, my baby pulled it along with me, grew his belly to the 9th percentile and I continued to go to college and live a normal life amidst all checkups and hospitalizations till the end of 30th week, when I bled again and doctors realised I had to be in the hospital till I deliver a premature baby boy hopefully at 34 weeks, since I started to haemorage internally. The gave me two more steroid shots and two drips of Magnesium Sulphate which prevents preterm labor and helps in neurological development of babies who had to be delivered before time. It was the worst thing I ever had in life.

I looked stable again to them and they sent me home the fourth day, only to come back after six hours and dotors decided that I am not going anywhere. Third day again one of the doctors sent me home, despite the fact that my Obstetrics wanted me to be there, only to come back in three hours and hospitalized permanently this time with my doctor freaking out of the fact a life threatening case like this was sent home.

I suffer from a chronic placenta haemorage, or a placenta abruption. There are many factors like drugs, cigarettes, accidents, truma in an accident, high blood pressure, placenta previa, women over 40, etc causing it and in my case, none of these so it was all the more frustrating. One in twenty women suffer from this for no fault of theirs and often they don't bleed or show any distress till they deliver. Usually placenta is not needed after the baby is born but often it detaches itself from the uterus and in some cases, when it detaches itself completely from the uterus, you lose a lot of blood and both mother and the baby can die in minutes.

I am a high risk patient now and I got my sixth steroid shots and second dosage of Magnesium Sulphate to stabilise me. Everyday is a challenge and it is only me and my husband here, where I get to see my husband only for sometime and that too not everyday, since he has to work, go to the gym, take care of the house; so I am all alone in the hospital and yet not alone. The nurses and doctors are great and I have some great friends here.

I was used as a case study by one of the doctors for a lecture and my ultrasound scans were not only informative to them but also to me.

Each day is a fear of complete abruption; but that is life. God has been a great support. I am 31 weeks long and my baby has pulled it well so far.

I wonder what those women do who have no medical aid, insurance or any moral support.

I wish I could go back to India and educate people about this and I just pray our politicians provide basic medical care atleast to people in villages.

My humble request to people to understand various complications of pregnancy, and for that matter understand medical terms and instead of questioning patients coping with various medical problems, be a support.

I love my new temporary home... this hospital room. It has only made me stronger and also made me aware of who has been really there for me and also understand those who claim to be your friends, but find no time to ask your weel being. I don't feel bad anymore, for many don't really know the issue, and some are just coping with their own problems and a few of them don't even count:-)

I have three more weeks till I reach 34 weeks atleast safely and everyday is a challenge which doesnt end here. My baby once born will go to the Neonatal Intensive care Unit till be breathes on his own and is a full term baby.

Having shared my story, I learnt so much in this hospital. What looks rosy isnt at all. Doctors work extremely hard and do a great job and we only see their money. The nurses here are like mothers with a natural passion to serve humanity. They leave their sorrows behind and put up with the patients for long hours. The cleaners and service staff love the little treats you give them happily and look forward to it more and more and having said that, we all love food and it creates wars here too. lol

I will be updating this soon, once our little one comes to the world safely.

 

The Yester Years

It was only yesterday, when I stepped out of my comfort zone called home. With dreams in my eyes, ready to struggle in the big big world, my first step outside Assam to Delhi after my 12th exams gave me a bundle of memories to cherish through out my life. My heartfelt thanks to Amlan Chaturvedi for helping me get a seat in Ramjas College, in times, when no one was around. 18th May, 1999 when I landed in Delhi after fourteen years. My first trip to Delhi was in 1985, with my parents and our stay in Hotel Ashok too had some connections. The American tourist with whom I roamed happily as a child, oblivious of the fact that I would be living in the US and helplessly looking for her, but in vain. My daily bus trip from Modinagar, UP to Delhi with Monu Bhaiya to apply to Colleges was scary sometimes then for Delhi is huge and so were the roads; broad and crowded for a small townee like me. My Destiny landed me in Ramjas College, North Campus.
My first Paying Guest Accommodation in Model Town I, reminds me of the richshaw puller, who was as as thin as a twig but had immense strength and would always offer me a ride, whenever needed. On one wintery night, he was my night in shining armour too, when a bunch of hooligans chased his rickshaw from Vijaynagar to Model town and he made sure, I reached home safe. My nasty landlady and her cute dog Suzie and not to mention the domestic help Pokhila, always extended her help in getting our threading done, giving us the extra serving of vegetables and let us watch tv, whenever, the owners were away. My Mauritian flat mate Ryna Ramersand, who became a dear friend of mine and made me promise, I will never take to smoking like her and get lost in the glitz and glamour of Delhi. Meena Guria, another flat mate, who faked her identity and duped us in a big way, still makes my heart beat faster, thinking how a small townee can get into the road towards doom.

My first day in College, made me meet Ruchi Gargesh (Prabhakar), and we became Juno's swans. Our search for Fundoo chocolate, which never existed in the departmental stores, bother the bookshop owner with the names of the books that never existed, try different cheap food stalls, located at the most unhygienic locations and yet hog to our heart's content. Our visit to St. Stephan's College Church, without displaying our ID Cards and play the piano at the loudest, still makes me laugh at our pranks. Ruchi and I had the best of the best and the worst of the worst times together. Where on one hand we were the closest, we also had our share of differences, where we always gave enough space to each other and come back again. Love and heartbreaks brought in a big gap, but we never forgot each other despite all odds. I remember my daddy calling her up once and asking her about how she puts me with me, to which Ruchi replied that She is equally crazy like me. You have a special place in my heart Ruchi. It was kind of funny, how we both would fall for same guys and I would end up negotiating with her to stay away from some for I looked at him first. Our group also consisted of Tashneen, who was ever hungry for Momos like all of us; Thakur Rajlok Singh Metha, who joined us in second year with whom I was always at loggerheads; Anupam Alam Shah, the simple guy from Ghaziabad; Diana Sharma, whose abuses literally blew my mind; Gita Rughoobur from Mauritius, who was my flat mate from Second year onwards, at Tyagi Niwas in Outram Lines; Anuradha Handique, who too joined us in second year; Surya Ramamurthy, our junior; and many more. Rishi Bora's vocals followed by The Nepalese Bikash Gurung's guitar skills, Siddhartha Baruah's Intelligence; Rubi Borgohain (Sharma)'s simplicity and Rahul Datta's innocence and his never ending achievements in Antakshri everywhere from College to Dubai. Nalini's funny habit to memorise english, lol to Satyam Pukhrem's sense of humor, Adhishta's bossiness, to Charu's docile behavior; Himanshu's soft corner towards all the girls to Pratyush's funny ways and Jaitley's big talks; Mayukh's wealth stories to Amrita's American boyfriend and Cosmetics; Swati's silky long hair to Shikha and Parul's friendship; Deepali's sincerity to the back benchers' and Lipika Ray's negligible presence. The glorious blast from the past, leaving all the beautiful imprints in our hearts, as we continue to live our lives somewhere on Earth. We all were unique in our own ways and how came together under one roof of Ramja's  english classroom which brought out the best in us. We remain indebted to our teachers Sir. Debraj Mukerji, Ma'am Chandra, Ma'am Bhalla, Ma'am Shalin Sharma, Ma'am Saraf, Guha Sir, Ahuja Ma'am Sharada Ma'am, Ma'am Lal ,Sir. Jacob and our respected lecherous Professor who is no more in this world. I don't recall his name but he was funny indeed. I also have great respect for all the college canteens of Delhi University, Kamla Nagar Restaurants esp. Momo's point, Biryani Junction, Chahcha's Our bunta walas, Imli walas, Tom Uncle, Bhel puri walas, Rickshaw walas, the security guards of colleges, whom we troubled like hell, the ince cream vendors, the buses,  Gopalji of Delhi School of Economics Canteen and the ever unpleasant Owner there who is still alive with his grumpy face scaring the students.

In the Crossroads of college life and amidst various seminars, college festivals, paper readings, lectures, workshops, competitions and trips, many people came and went; some touched our lives, some left the world, some made us cry and many made ur life, some broke our hearts and a few are with us like families. What remained constant was the change and learning and they both are definitely always changing and change is the only constant thing in life. I wish like some Bollywood flick, we all can plan a day and venue, which obviously will be Delhi and meet up outside Ramjas College. Fine for absence will be the missed moments.

Although I have not spoken about our seniors and juniors like Shikhar Mohan, Akhilesh, Sujit Sir, who stole Deepali away; Ruhi, Miss Verma's journey to Mrs. Mukherji, Poulomi, Sudipto Mukherji, Alfared and many more, they all have been pictured and framed somewhere in the album of our hearts. This is an unedited version of my thoughts. Will add more to it.

Kuch to log kahenge logon ka kaam hai kehna

When our parents gave my sister and I a liberal upbringing, I was called fast. Yes I am fast. I thought ahead of time. In school I didn't have many friends for I raised my voice against bullying, had an identity of my own which clashed with many.When I cam to Delhi for higher studies, people labelled me tez( YEH TO BAHUT TEZ HAI. PATA NAHIN APNE PATI KA KYA HAAL KAREGI).When I started working, my own relatives, leave aside outsiders wondered why I would work and earn a living and not get married? I was told by someone close at that time that (Aurat ko shaadi ke baad apne pati ki sewa karni chahiye, bachcho ko dekhna chahiye) and the irony is that the same woman has her own business today. Good for her. I being a product of a liberal Assamese society and a co- ed catholic school never thought twice before making male friends. To tell you the truth, I got along more with men for they are less complex and easy going. So, needless to mention I was labelled as caharacter less with my name being linked to I dont know how many. I expressed my liking and crushes openly in public which is normal and that made people judge me again.

Gradually my honesty, flamboyance and straightforwardness made more enemies than friends. But funny part is that whenver someone needed any information, financial support or any kind of help I was the one they would turn to and this continues even now:-)

Setu....get this info, can you help me with some cash, my uncle/niece/ mom is coming over so keep her at your place, you have a great taste so shop for my husband, get me a job and it is a never ending gala..uuuffff! And then Setu is diplomatic, shows off, fast, TEZ, proud, and all the evils vest inside her..lol.

My life has been my greatest teacher. I learnt that people I genuinely loved and respected hated me and bad mouthed me. I saw the world the way I am. My true self, honest criticism always rubbed people the wrong way. I still try to be the courteous, most generous, true in my behaviour, a good human being for I am God fearing and the new label I have got is " FAKE."

Sometimes I really wonder....who is fake me or the people around me full of many masks? We all wear masks but the ones with least no of them pay a heavy price. Sometimes being human I get bogged down, sink into depression but the second day I like a " Phoenix" as I call myself continue doing my Karma.

Yes I am TEZ for I am a self made woman. I survived alone, struggled hard from a small town to Delhi/ Gurgaon, fought for my rights and lived with dignity.Yes I am FAST for I did things ages back and it doesnt amaze me anymore the way it does to you. Yes I am DIPLOMATIC if you say so for I hide my tears and still continue to love and be true to myself forgetting the grudges and smile in front of you. Yes I am FAKE at times and show to the world that I am happy and give an ear to their problems when I am going through the deepest crisis yet dont share it with anyone.
I earned many titles in this world..not so good ones. But I have no regrets for I chose to tread on the path of simplicity, honesty, straightforwardness and self respect. Every garbage thrown at me, every pull back made me stronger. And lastly with parents and a sister like mine, Aruna Mosi and a great great Husband I just cant complain. I know deep down the hearts of the people who pass comment, despise me or gossip about me lies a subdued conscience which tells them they are wrong.

I dont regret being me and pray to God to make me stronger, humble, showing me the right path and the ability to spread love, live sensibly and be a better human day by day.Amen!

Yet Another page of my life

College days are mostly fun filled with a little downs here and there which everyone goes through. While I was looking for a old friend in Facebook, recalled The Delhi School of Economics Canteen which must have served many hungry students who would rush even before the classes started.

Being a Paying Guest, food was something we lived for I would say. The normal dabba kept us going in order to be alive. Else it was nothing but bitter medicine which a pediatrician gives to a fussy kid.

The delight was always the cheap roadside food and Delhi School of Economics Canteen was also one Adda for the North Campus Students. Not only was it an attraction for the hostelers but also the Day Scholars all across Delhi and NCR. Often we found Old Alums visiting the college for its Mutton Cutlet, Rajma Chawal etc.

My morning breakfast along with a dear friend Ruchi Gargesh( A day Scholar) would be at D School Canteen. The Rs. 2.50 Coffee served by Gopal ji along with a Rs. 6.50 Idli plate was heavenly in the mornings. That food would keep us going till our lectures got over and gave us enough energey to dream to be the future writers, leaders and what not....lol

I remember one day Ruchi and I wanted to be the super cool students of our class. Sir N. Jacob, apparently Ruchi's crush then was one of the coolest Teachers we ever had would let us be the way we were, thus  tolerating our madness. So we sat on the desk, took an icecream break and got our favourite icecreams during the class. Poor Sir, but only kept quiet and let us eat in glory:-)

There was this Momo Joint at Kamla Nagar which we visited often.Now when I come to think of it, I really wonder how we ever manage to eat there in that small dingy room which served the tastiest of Momos with Stew (I am sure the dirt, the unkempt look of the Waiters added more flavours). Not to mention the Shagun Restaurant at Vijay Nagar, which still exists. Tashneen, Rajlok and I once were returning back from Shagun and I had to pee badly. We took a rickhshaw and three of us managed to park our behinds. With every bump on the road It was terrible for me to control my urge to attend the nature's call...and the moment I reached Tashu's PG I rushed to her toilet....lol

Those were the days! There are many such incidents. Another one where Rajlok had to become the Rickshaw Puller and Ruchi and I were his Sawaris. He pulled the Rickshaw from Our Ramjas College till Kamla Nagar whilst the Rickshaw puller came running behind us. Gosh!

This now reminds me of how I used to Double ride with Liendung, a Vietnamese Nun in our PG on her bicycle and act like the (Kabadiwalas) Scrapdealers.She had literally adopted me then and would experiement her Vietnamese cuisine on me:-(

A foodie she was would often take this poor Hosteller to the Restaurants since she had all the moolah flowing in from different countries as Donation for her studies. Rich she was! Aaahh!

I will add some more to it. But gotta hit the gym now.