The modern laws of attraction

It has never been more difficult and challenging than now to lure the fairer sex into our sweet talk. And if there is any sign of this great art inversely abeting with age of the women, think twice before you act. Gone are the days when you could trap a 5-6 year old for a peck on your cheek with talk of lollipops and chocolates. Its now a full blown greed that is the thorn that a modern man sits to appease the demands of these fatal females.

I never miss an opportunity, though, to battle my wits with these young fairies in hope that my charm would ultimately win over their often underestimated wisdom. And yes they do battle hard for their own sake as I see amazingly where the seeds of resilience of modern day woman are sowed. Women in all shapes and sizes are animals difficult to please. At a party I targeted a six year old of my charm. My final wish was to earn her hand in marriage as a part of the deal and gleefully walk away with a peck on my cheek. I approached her and asked, "Whats your name?". "Dia" she replied. Realising that she was really comfortable, I further  deepened the plot with talk of school and best friends. I suddenly popped with the million dollar question,"Will you  marry me?". Now there is something about women of all ages and the notion of marriage. A mere mention of that sent her in bounds of delight which I took for a big "Yes".It was akin to complementing a boy for playing like Sachin. Nevertheless she soon proved my equal in the art of bargaining. Pressing home the advantage, I asked her "Where will we stay?". She yelled in a big house with AC and servants. Point 1 to note is at 6 years she has already thought of a house. Cleverly, I gave her a planet called Falan to live which she gracefully accepted. I remarked, " What will we eat? Who will cook food?". Poor thing had no answer. I saved her the blushes saying that we will eat pineapples on the planet and I will cook for her. Time for my peck on the cheek question. What will we do for the whole day? "Play swing swing " pat came the answer. No ,I said until I receive a peck on the cheek with which I was gladly rewarded.Mission accomplished.

You can see clearly my charms working on the younger maidens. Now, the point why it does not work on their elder counterparts is unfathomable to me. I have applied all lotions and creams to get their attraction. Spraying myself with axe wodoo to get the famed "axe" effect, I walked in the middle of the road. I was sure that I would be soon followed by an army of heavenly nymphs. But to my utter surprise, I could only see a couple of street dogs behind me. Nor did changing my undergarments to those brands like Rupa, Lux or VIP get me a super sexy dame in my arm. It only ended me with a lot and scratching at the wrong ends.I tried using "fresh breath" as an ultimate weapon following to gather attention of any of the fairer denizens. I even tried to be "The complete Man" as the ads so profess with a dressing style to match. After I had run a complete course of shampoos, exotic soaps , perfumes, branded clothes etc I found difficult to get traction on infusing my charm on these elderly nymphs.

A dejected man as I was cooking came to my rescue. As my list of recipes increased, so did my fame. I cannot believe that the stench of sweat and masalas can be so attractive. Therein lies the conundrum. What attracts these eves is difficult to surmise. As I plan my next chess moves, I couldn't help but observe. The laws of attraction have changed.

The Army of Shadows

There are movies and there are "the" movies. Being a fan of neo-realism cinema, I have loved the works of Rossilini nd Satyajit Ray to the core. But, this ones special. Set in the backdrop of Vichy France, this French movie  is an unparalleled tale of valour and heroism in the dark period of WW2. The movie depicts a deadly cat and mouse game between the Nazi Gestapo and the French Resistance fighters in its complete gory capacity. The absolute hopelessness of battling an evil Goliath intricately captured in the camera lens provides us a birds eyes view of what actually happened in those dark days. Many of these fighters met ghastly deaths and were forgotten in unmarked graves. A thought of what the cult figure of Jean Moulin must have gone through in the hideous torture chambers of Gestapo at Hotel Terminus is just left dangling in my mind . That this army was one of the reasons for the fall of the Nazis is a moment to celebrate and cherish

Times have changed. This painful past is a memory to forget and forgive. But, what remains is to observe the present. In a curious thought, I decided to persist to find this army of shadows in our present day society. It was not until on my way cycling for my morning swim, that I saw my army. Armed with brooms, these old ladies were in full bloom cleaning the streets . It was a moment of discovery truly. Often, I failed to spot these helping hands who do this job of cleaning the dirt and muck in the society. Those men who step down the sewers to clean the shit pile or people whom we notice in times of distress are a real boon. In a society obsessed with finding and talking about problems, they are the solutions. I decided to go a step further.I started knowing them better. I now know my watchman better.  These people whom you won't provide a cursory glance let alone respect live in their own world of troubles. In an idea I call the "name" experiment, I just asked them their names. In my conversation, I started referring to them by their names and it created a magical ambience. They became happy that somebody was speaking with respect and as an equal. You could always argue over that they receive money. But, the question remains is whether we would exchange jobs if the income was same? A question better left unanswered in a society which does not profess job equality.

Jean-Pierre Melville's movie ends on a sad note with all its main protagonist  suffering a bitter end. It left my eyes moist as the army disintegrates under the heavy pressure of the Gestapo. But what of the fate of our army. I see a different end for this merry band. As education empowers them, I see them grow and  produce champions. I hope to see  that magnificent rise very soon :-)

The Fatal Cat Fights

Well, I'll start this on a cautious note. I am a complete fan of these fights. They catch me hook, line and sinker. Lol...don't go on calling me a sadist for my strange penchant! I know all of you guys will never go and actually stop one. And how proud we males would be if we were the cause of contention of that fight ? The complicated group equations amongst can often create a devastatingly funny ambience . Not only are these clashes universal but they are unbelievably secular.. You can watch of all this entertainment right from the village mohallas to the posh theatres and often right in the middle of a crowded road irrespective of caste, creed or religion.

The ferocity with which our otherwise shy and coquettish females display to each other in these clashes will make you wonder why many of them don't get employed in the army and stand on the borders guarding the nation. Men fights are so boring . They will just end in a melee of broken heads, blood and often peace pact. No chance of that in a cat fight. They amazingly inventive use of invectives with the glares and if you are lucky , yeah, a physical mash makes up something that no true cinema has captured in its temerity and ferocity. IMO, we should have chosen female leads to provide us some great spice content.Why miss the fun :p

And amazingly these things do not wither out with age or having children. In a family function in my village, we employed certain ladies for cooking and cleaning. Now, what we were not aware was that we had deprived another group of ladies of their living. Unable to control their egos, the final show down occurred right in middle of the function between two ladies carrying children on their hips. The climax of which was a action packed slapping contest. I started noticing how happy the kids were when their moms were swinging their hands against each other and shed crocodile tears when they stopped for a pause. To my utter surprise, nobody stopped it. And me, I was all in the mood to take a video only to be cautioned by my wise mom.

And if its not a great show down, a cat fight can be a slow , torturous climb . On a comment "Keep the change !" by the leader of one such cat group to the other, the misery of common male friends is complete. Unable to open their mouths in support of any group, the barrage of negativity can just put you out of orbit. God save you if your GF and your best female friend/sister end up at opposite ends. Often soured relations will never heal. Best advice , stay away from the resolving job. Its not our cup of tea. What one female can be to other as an enemy is a creation of God. They might just put past his advice and carry it in their next janaams. I can see God raise his hands in exasperation as I put an end to my rumbles from within .

In a Complicated Relationship

The wake up call came yesterday when my 15 year old "durka"nephew posted "In a complicated relationship" on his Facebook wall. I had barely finished satisfying the rumbles in my stomach when Wham! In a flash, his status was swarming with enquiring comments like ants on sugar. To my utter amazement, he would have made Einstein tear some of his remaining hair with his witty replies! Attaboy, proud to be your uncle on that note!If that was not enough, the evening entertainment was provided by another lovely lady friend. Quietly, up went the status "In a complicated relationship". By night, her status was being probed deep enough to suggest that we could employ a few hands in our CBI to solve its woes of addressing burgeoning number of scams and investigations of our shameless politicos. That our judiciary is inept is an altogether different propostion and for another blog Coming back to the ripples that social media is creating in our day to day lives, its amazing to se that personal information like relationship status are being placed in a complex dimension. Does such a status update mean:

1.My young nephew in one sided love affair
2.He is in an affair but not necessarily love
3.He got a guy (I hear a distant "Nahiiiiiiii" from my Sister)
4.My lady friend at the start of a love bloom
5.She is crying at the end of a failed relationship
6.She has got a girl(She never looked like that of a kid)
7. All those other things that go beyond my mental capacity

Not that I wanna do some deep analysis on this topic but what's the harm in getting the rusty brain a little jog. I did want to raise my hands up and give a "Who on earth cares?" shrug at some point. No point in acting a snob. The holy business of gossip didn't survive because people didn't care. It survived exactly for the opposite reason. So, here comes the dilemma. The status is not informative at all! It doesn't tell me anything and on the contrary, raises too many questions. Wait let me just don my Cape crusader look and become Detective Batman. Or put my Sherlock homes hat and put a tobacco pipe in my mouth.

As I battle my wits out, I realise now much fun my nephew is having . Don't worry I'll figure it out in time. And then do the evil job of informing my cousin sister ! I am left with a wicked smile at the thought of what would follow. Don't worry bhatija...I'll save u this time. Our chacha- bhatija relationship just turned a little complicated :p

Tomato Mozzarella

This is a quick snack dish to feed you when you are really hungry. The choice of bread is yours. The only thing you require beforehand is the basil pesto

 Ingredients for Pesto* :  150 g fresh basil without stems (Kasturi Tulsi) if you are in Bangalore. You can pluck this if you grow a basil plant in your house
=> 4 cloves of peeled garlic
=> 50 g pine nuts roasted( you can choose walnuts as an option)
=> 50 ml extra virgin oil divided into 2 parts
=> 75 g Parmesan cheese finely grated
=> Salt and pepper to taste
[Recipe is from Ritu Dalmia's "Italian Khanna"]
Procedure : 1. Place the  basil leaves, garlic and nuts in a food processor with steel blade. Process until the basil and garlic is finely choppd
2. Add half of the olive oil . Its great if you can do this in a slow stream when the processor is on. Turn off the processor, and add the Parmesan. Process again till all the cheese  is absorbed
3. Stop and add the remaining olive oil. Keep the machine running until the pesto is creamy. Add salt and pepper as per taste
The pesto can be stored for a long period of time in a airtight container and used when required.

Ingredients for Tomato Mozzarella:
=> Ciabatta bread(You can choose one that suits you)
=> Mozarella Cheese two good chunks
=> 2 tomatoes cut vertically
=> Basil pesto

Procedure: Cut the bread into two halves. Further, slice each half down the center. Apply pesto generously to each of the quarters. Insert tomatoes between them. Put the cheese as well.
Warm the  halves in an oven/pan until the cheese melts. I haven't done this an oven so I can't tell you the time setting. But  you could experiment with a good 2 minutes.

In these trying times when onion prices are going up, tomato provides a much cheaper alternative.
Enjoy your breakfast :)

The rise of the XXX industry

As we wait on one of the most crucial judgements for the Nirbhaya rape case, the past six months have thrown bare several crucial points to ponder. The Nirbhaya rape incident which occurred on 16 December 2012 mobilized the conscience of the whole nation. But, the fallout of the protests did little to stop the rise of the rape incidents in the country. Delhi remains the most notorious place for crime but then there is a good spread of these incidents occurring across all states. The amount of legislation and money put in the Nirbhaya fund was also not enough in my opinion to stop or curb any repeat of such incidents. If there is any thing, it seems to have grown unconcerned.
It occurred to me that punishment as a deterrent is not going to work. First, we need to understand the reasons as such to why objectification of women is leading to these heinous crimes. Let me get to the first part of hate against women. In a strong patriarchal society like India, men have always thought women as a part of their property. This also finds resonance in the Indian law system wherein a women is treated as a property of a father/husband/brother. With roles of women curtailed to kitchen and family, it was a man’s job to provide means of sustenance for the family. Several brilliant and talented women lost their careers as family took precedence over career. However, in the last two decades things have changed rapidly. With the growth of sectors like IT and retail, more and more women found employment. They started getting educated and trained. The economic freedom provided them an opportunity to pursue their careers. Naturally, they came in competition to men for roles of growth in organizations and families. This has largely been perceived as a threat by the males . In organization where behavior could be curtailed it was marked but the repercussions are seen in the family. Overall, the expression of hate has found its resonance due to inability of society to provide a level playing framework of competition for men and women. We were not prepared to handle independent and smart women and as such we are purely doing reactive measure.
Where did rape come into picture? I think this is due to the rise of the XXX or the blue industry. This industry is the only industry which has shown growth even during the economic meltdowns. I remember certain discussion in my teens wherein the female body and their orifices were visualized only for sensual pleasures . But, its my belief that the blue industry and its tentacles in young males is generating an arrogance which I do not want to put in words. As the stars of this industry put their vicious grip on the young, most grow fantasizing young women in this very way. Its a very animistic instinct and very difficult to control. Its difficult to quantify how far this rot in the male mind has gone. In my personal experience, a lot of men find acceptance in teaching an independent women a lesson through violence and the most agreed is often sexual in nature. Its not that rape as a measure to teach women(intelligent and independent) their place below men did not exist earlier. It was subdued perhaps because women did not directly compete with men at work. A negative comment by a women is often taken as an affront to males dominion status. A natural reaction by a lesser mind would be to hurt that women in some women. If that is not possible, the frustration is borne out by some other vulnerable women. With so many women out of their houses for work at odd hours, anybody could be a target of this built up frustration.

So what is the solution? At some point of time, we as a society need to come up with a framework to address the space for women. They have been wanting this space for so long.Our definition of women as somebody’ mother, sister or wife needs to be changed to her individuality. This should percolate from the top to the bottom. The family values for women should share their demand for freedom and space for creativity. Often, we choose the eldest male to be the heir for the family. The transformation would be to select the most talented for that job. But, also for women, they should understand that this is going to take time and will not be free of its hassles. Young lads should be taught to visualize the body in some form of art like painting, dancing etc. It will liberate their minds of voyeurism and objectification. If the space in the family and mind of men is made, I think that women will have a much safer world to live in. Lets hope we live to see such a world!

[This one is for Bincy. Thanks for reminding me to write about it]

Sleepless Nights

I have had a fair share of good peaceful nights. These are times when the body and mind tired from the abuse of the day find its solace in the bed of night.I remember my grandma's tales of heroism and valour of kings as well as the beauty of queens. She was not an educated lady but through her folklore of yore,
she imbibed in all us siblings the virtues of righteousness and spirit of survival. And how well I slept hearing this. As she patted on my head singingsongs which she learnt as a child, I passed from the realms of reality to the world of dreams where for me everything was possible.I was in a world filled with magical creatures, centaurs and unicorns.There were mermaids,nymphs and gods. I miss all of that now.

As times have changed, so has sadly my ability to pass peacefully  into the world of dreams. Every day I take into myself something which takes away from me the beauty of the transition which my grandmother gently put me through. The "something" can be terrorist blowing up bombs, rapes of children, apathy of life and the bias that the world puts us through every day. AS my generation gets loaded with the data that  is being blindly subjected to, my mind cleverly filters the larger picture removing the tiny details. It is these tiny details that I come to face in my dreams.And certainly, some of them turn into nightmares. As a child,I used to wake up in sweat when such nightmares came to me in the middle of night. And my grandmother calmly woke up, fetched me a glass of water and patted me back to sleep. I have no patting now. I face the terrors of the minute details as a lone warrior. As my peaceful sleep ends in nightmare and possibly brings me back to reality with my throat parched, I sit sipping the glass of water. Is this generation condemned to
few hours of sleep? We all share the same problem and the same worries. I share the history of sleep with the ancient men. They must have had their share of worries but they had the will to sleep peacefully. It is this will that is ebbing away from me nowadays. Many people boast about the lesser number of hours they sleep or the hours they burn the oil lamp for. As we hide behind excuses of movies, tv shows and sacrifice our sleep, will we be punished for the laying on the altar one of the most basic ingredient of our life? I think we all know the answer for that. As I put an end to my tale of woe after waking from a nightmare,  I am reminded of the title of  a beautiful poem "A Dream within a Dream" by Edgar Allan Poe. I hope I am in just in a dream within a dream and waiting to be patted back to sleep.

Sophie's choice

How steep or cruel can choices be? There can be no end in personal and professional life wherein competition and love makes us do dastardly acts. As I reflect upon the human mind in chaos when tumultous choices pour out of unexplored pockets of life...we face the barrage of human emotions for which none of us will ever have the capacity or possible build a capacity. One such choice that comes to my mind is in the movie "Sophie's choice". The talented and beautiful Meryl Streep(of the Iron Lady fame) is on the anvil of such a choice.

The movie revolves around the life of a beautiful girl, Sophie during the Nazi invasion of Poland. The Polish
population is subjected to cruelty and many are moved to Auswitchz concentration camp (A site in Krakow Poland which I one day will definitely visit and pray for the departed).  In an epic hair raising scene, Sophie along with her two young children, Jan and Eva is forced a cruel decision by the Nazi officer manning the gates of Auswitchz.She, either, has to select one of her children for the gassing chambers(A certain death!) and the other to the labour camp in a matter of minutes.The officer tells her that if she doesn't make a choice almost surely he will send both the children to the gassing chamber.

 I saw the scene repeatedly again and again. The beauty of Sophie with her shining wide eyes,
the fear in the children, the calmness of the sadistic Nazi officer and the cruelest silence one can ever witness as Sophie's goes through the emotions of horror, shock and the end acceptance of her choice. I could not escape Eva,one hand cuddled around Sophie and in the other having a small doll . Jan is all wrapped around Sophie's thigh, standing, fearing to look at the officer as the children also realize the choice forced on their mom. Sophie does make a choice when the officer warns her of not acting quickly and nearly snatching both the children. She let goes her daughter to the gassing chamber and saves her son.

Much has been debated over Sophie's choice. Was Sophie's choice correct? Many argue that there was hardly anything Sophie could do in such a cruel situation. Her options were crazy and no matter what she chose would appear crazy to people if she reasoned it out. The eccentric reason she gives for making the choice is that while Eva had a doll to hold on to Jan was completely dependent on her. This might sound crazy but to me as a mother she made of choice who depended on her more at that very moment of time. Several people argue that in such a situation she should have witheld the choice and let both her children
go to the chambers. This sounds another crazy option...but as it turns out it makes sense. By making her choice, the sadistic officer has passed on the responsibility of killing the child on to Sophie who must now live with this choice every day of her life.
Certain extra ordinary circumstances call for extraordinary measures. In the movie, her son is lost in the concentration camp and Sophie's choice faces a bitter end. Sophie comes out of the concentration camp alive and however, enable to live off the trauma enters into a relationship with another mentally ill survivor of the camp. She has a casual relationship with a reporter whome she tells about her choices. The reporter asks her to marry her..however, she returns back to her earlier relationship(shame of realising that how she left her loved ones) only to be shot ill fatedly by her lover during his mental fits.

Sophie comes out as a weak character to me. She tries to reason out with evil and expect something good out of them. In the end, she bears the responsibility of the choice. She goes back to her lover when she has a more fruitful relation with the reporter. I possibly cannot say that I can understand but then, such is the nature of life. Before you denounce me as evil for my harsh judgement, have a clear look in Sophie's character and say that. Put in yourself in her shoes(A big ask)...and remember situations where you made evil choices.
Maybe, her "choice" isn't that cruel after all for we might have made far more evil choices....

The ghost of 20 years.....

It’s been 20 years since Bombay witnessed the riots of 1993. It was my first encounter of life threatening violence as a small boy. The Bombay riots were in full flow in the terrible months of Dec 1992-Jan 1993. Until then, life for me was fun with friends and family intertwined with homework, play and school.  But, it all changed in those horrible 2 months as the full blown impact of violence destroyed the last  shreds of innocence. I have hated seeing blood all those tender years. But the terrible display of it on TV channels and news with people cutting each other was and is still etched in my memory and vividly. The religious nature of the riots changed for ever the religion distinction in my mind . Ever since those past of 20 years, Mumbai has been haunted by the past in  the form of Bombay Bombings(1993), the serial blasts in the trains( 2003 and 2006)and the 26/11 terror attacks(2008) which can be perceived as acts of retribution.

Bombay is a metropolitan city which harbors the dreams of many.  It’s a fast city where work ethics are appreciated and display of political connections largely frowned upon. It’s a place which houses an astonishing 2 crore people and from diverse backgrounds. It’s a largely plural fabric and caste/religion based discriminations are largely avoided.

This all changed in a matter of 2 months as we watch our city burn. The violence was incited in 2 phases each lasting a period of 1-2 weeks. The December 1992 phase was largely due tothe retribution sought for the demolition of the Babri Masjid. This phase lasted exactly a week and fizzled out. The blood shedding was largely restricted to certain areas in Mumbai and did not spread to the fringe areas like mine. I was in a good convent school and we had quite an appreciable number of Muslim students. The schools closed down in the wake of violence and we are quite enjoying the holiday during those turbulent times. It was a daily dose of fun and frolic minus the homework for us.

However, things turned from bad to ugly in the second phase of the violence in Jan 1993.The second phase was clearly incited by the local politicians. They wanted revenge for the earlier killings and incited mobs to go on killing spree. The wounds of the first phase were still fresh and what followed was a systematic destruction of life and property. Swords, knives and all sorts of sharp objects were mobilized . Hindu and Muslim mobs  went on a rampage and started lynching each other as  sworn enemies. Torching of humans became common and destruction of property omnipresent. This time around even fringe areas like mine were not spared.

 My locality had a Hindu majority with a few people from the minority communities. We were a community of 36 building spread across around a 75-100 acre area. Each building was geographically distributed and there were no common gates. Hence, each building was forced to look after its

own security. Till that day, the sharpest object I had come across was a scissor and a sharp knife. And then suddenly I saw swords, axes and all weapons being gathered in my building in those early days of January. The very elders whom I have laughed with and played along were disturbed, red eyed and fearful. Then, one of the buildings had an idea and they installed an alarm bell in each of the resident's house. Along with this was also the start of the night vigils as the violence escalated in the mid January phase. I still remember that we were all inside the house by 9 pm. The elders would keep a watch through out the night. I also knew the place where the weapons hidden. One night my buildings had a power failure. At this juncture, for  the first time the alarms went off. I had read in a book that you could taste fear and my young nubile mind never had grasped the idea. But, that very night I knew what it really meant.As a complete chaos ensued of shouts, yells and running feet throughout the building, I never knew when I started crying. And then I realized I wasn't alone.AS my mom put a reassured warm hand around us 3 children, the elderly men folk went in search for the reason why the bell went off. This scene is a photographic memory in my head and surfaces every time but lately has disappeared. It wasn't until an hour later that the elders returned. My uncle had a mark on his hand because of steel rod being hit. It turned out they were only two people carrying iron rods and ran off seeing the site of so many people. There were one or two more false alarms but then life limped back to normal in my locality. The swords disappeared in time and the alarm bell as I came to know later was removed.

Bombay was never the same city after the violence of 1993. The event changed our lives forever and segregated the Mumbai demography in ghettos. The Muslim population shifted to the vicinity of areas like Mumbra, Kalwa and Andheri.  Amjath, Yasmeen and their family moved to Mumbra. Theirs was the worst plight as they had stayed with us for a decade and long. The violence had badly affected them and though our society besieged them on to stay they never thought of that as an option. Bombay also never repeated the communal violence again. We have been rocked by bomb blasts and enticements ever since. But, the plural fabric of Bombay stood strong and did not let revenge happen again. Under a strong vigil, we have built a new city, a new resilience and an undying spirit called the "Spirit" of Mumbai. And ever since that fateful month of January 1993, I have also avoided a like sounding alarm in all my houses. There is no pointing in bringing back a ghost of 20 years.....

The overflowing wardrobe

I made a definite resolution to clean my wardrobe last Diwali. I share a 2BHK accommodation with 3 other friends. However the lazy bums that we are…we never take care of maintaining the room in a decent state. each of us would blame the other for not maintaining the room in a decent state. so after much fuss we  agreed to go through the process of change aka cleaning up our room of two.

Now, all said and done I did enter the process of shaping my room after a year or so. Both me and my room mate are sport freaks. this causes us to participate in  ritual sport activities. now this has a disastrous effect on the room ambiance with tshirts and undergarments surrounding our beds. I do have a decent wardrobe where I organize my office clothes. But then habits are habits. It didn’t take too much time for that to         overflow as well. Now if you can do imagine a scenario if a key or an important object  like a purse gets lost. frankly its a torture. not only do these thing happen when u start ur day a causing a severe headache. those piles of clothes have to be moved up and down and you end up finding a needle in a haystack. And wat’s with men and shoes. I seem to be having a vast array of them which includes running shoes, formal shoes, casual ones, white canvas, brown leather etc etc. Finally, I did put myself in my shoes and put a thinking hat, literally and mulled over the situation.

Just arrange it..my heart said . But, my brain battled on thinking its not a simple arrangement that is the solution. It wanted to probe deeper. And then I had it. I cautiously started counting all my clothes and classified them to the exact count in the table. I had not only spilled but overflown my needs. The count of tshirts only came to 50 and counting the other garments I stared at a grim figure crossing a century and high above.I had clearly no need for such an excess. And I took one of the most difficult decisions for which I still repent today. I cut down the excess. I had been accumulating and itwas time to let go.

Now this does look to be a simple exercise. But I started realizing that I was just not able to part with my clothes. On the first iteration I barely scratched out anything. Lot of these were personal gifts and parting with them was not easy. With more determination and after much heart burns…it was done a very trimmed list and a bunch of load of clothes to donate. Donate I did…foolishly to my watchman.

Its always good to cut down on excesses. Maybe we need such exercises in books, personal relations, movies etc. But as my watchman washes the cars wearing my favourite rock t-shirt..I think its more of a rogue to be condemned to watch what once was your favourites on somebody else. Nah…can never digest that somehow. Atleast, no close donations for me next time……