The art of accepting Gifts!

Gifts!

The very word will conjure up a flood of memories. Some pleasant, some not-so-pleasant and some downright bad ones [am talking about those innumerable terrible looking wall clocks, or casseroles or recycled gifts that are part of any wedding, whether you like it not and even after you have specifically mentioned “no gifts please”] whose memory refuses to fade away.

Just as they say that 'Gifting" is an art, I firmly believe that accepting gifts graciously is also an art, especially from loved ones. The most cherished moment in gifting is those few seconds of expected exhilaration from the giftee[for want of a better word] that follow after the “gifter”[I have cooked this one up as its been a while since I blogged and my brain cells have not yet woken up from their coma] has handed over the gift[surprise or otherwise].

The gift loses its significance for both the gifter and giftee if they do not appreciate the gift in totality. For instance a classic watch is meant to be just that…a classic beauty! Instead if after receiving the gift, you go on and on about how instead of a white dial, it would look better with a black one and instead of a square shape, it would look better if it were oval or circle or rectangle or whatever shape you have learnt and choose to recall for a more graphic description, then you are referring to a completely different watch…a different variety or version. In such instances, you are prodded to think if a gift voucher is a better option. It not only spares you the effort and the occasional not-so-pleasant aftermath of the gifting process, but also serves as a win-win for the gifter and giftee.

Or better still, as I have heard a few celebrities say…”I neither give or accept gifts”. Though it makes for a sensible solution I am not too sure I want to subscribe. On the contrary don’t you think that statement in itself can be the thought to propel my blogging spree?

A thought to gift…anyone???

Torn by thoughts, faded by time

Scene 1-Few years ago...guess I was in 10th Grade[enough! Now stop guesstimating my age...focus on the reading the blog]

Dad: What's wrong with your jeans?
Me: Nothing...
Dad: Its torn at the knee...
Me: Hmm...ya...I will fix it

The next day I go to a store, buy one of these iron-on patches[to hide the tear] and cover up the tear on the knee because we got new clothes(unlike now, when we buy clothes at the drop of a hat...oops...i meant drop of the word discount%%%`) only 3 scheduled times a year. Birthday, Pongal and Diwali and if you had a generous bunch of realtives who gave you money for gifts for all these occassions, you could use it bit by bit for things you liked.

Scene 2[Present day @ a shopping mall outside a GAP store]

Me: Am going in to have a look around. Would you baby sit please...
Hubby: Ok [and trots my little one off to give mom some "Me" time]

Almost an hour later, after a swipe of the plastic and carrying a plastic bag with my favourite fabric, I met my better half[depending on what part of the day and our tolerance factor post the baby sitting turn] at the play-pen. He takes one look at my purchases and remarks..."Jeans with a couple of patches, faded in parts and stained a different colour in 2 or 3 places and a tear at the knee???..."...I could have done this for you for free with any of your existing jeans!!!

That's when the irony of it all hit me...like one fleeting moment[a la movie ishtyle]...years ago, I bought a patch to cover up the tear on the knee of the torn jean, because jeans was an indulgence then and you didnt get to buy expensive clothes other than once or twice a year. Here I was...spending money to buy a new pair that is supposed to look like it is already worn out, faded and lived in...

All I can say is, I hope my dad doesn't read this blog!!!

Friends and the city-part 2

Me: Hey, how about “Sex and the city” on Friday evening…the 4 of us…

Friend: Sure, I can get the tickets done

Me: Ok, Meet us outside the theatre by 6…

Cut to 5 years, marriage and 1 kid later:

Me: Hey, how about “Sex and the city-part 2” on Friday evening….the four of us

Friend: Am not sure…

Me: Ok, we[the rest 3 of us] will let you know the reviews

After many such earlier instances, you begin to wonder…especially if the last instance is about a movie with 4 women who manage to find time for each other through their busy lives and one of your BFF’s is not able to accompany you.

Call it being emphatic, lucky or plain design…I always like some “Me” time…and have maintained it that way all through my life through school, college, “being single, fancy-free and footloose” days till present day.

How, where and when does the priority change for many a women who end up assenting to the whims and fancies of the husband/family members, suppressing their personal interests and friendships and subsequently complaining they feel upset about going out of touch and not having friends of their own. Their lives become so entwined with that of their spouses/kids that the concept of personal space and time seems to be non-existent. They feel guilty about even considering spending some time on their own[it could be a trip to the salon, shopping on their own or just about ADT]. So much so that they even consider it blasphemous if you propose such a “girls-only” time. And if they do show up, they are so consumed by the guilt of not being around to baby-sit and watch over their kid(s) that all they speak about is the kid(s) and what they do with them mooting the whole get-together.

In case you are still wondering about the odd title of the blog, Friends and the city-Part 1 implicitly refers to the ‘Single Woman” days when girl friends never had an issue catching up, going out or staying up and over at each others’ places despite some occasional stiff disapproving looks/stares/opinions from family.

So while you mull over this, I am off…for what else…some ‘Me” time of course!

Touche!

Disclaimer:

The author wishes to state that the opinions expressed are only her own and completely respect the multiple reasons/excuses women may have for making their respective choices.

I'm-mobile

2 relocations from Chennai to Amsterdam to Dallas in a span of 2 years. Apart from the usual challenges of any relocation, my primary concern was that of being mobile….Well, I am not talking here about the various companies and their schemes to lure customers with their ingenious cell-phone plans. But about being able to go anytime anywhere on my terms. Sample this scene…On an[read many] odd day when I have time on hands and don’t have the mindset to use that time to do anything else but [window] shopping, I call up my friend to proposition a visit to the nearest mall/sale store…

Chennai

Me: Hey…Am bored…shall we hit Citi Centre?

Friend: Ye…I will see you in half hour..

[We both have Honda Activa and transport is not an issue]

Amsterdam

Me: Hey…Am bored…shall we hit Binnenhof[the local mall]

Friend: Ye…Meet you at the tram station in 15 mins

[Buses/trams/metro were available literally in the backyard…and it meant less than 2 minutes walk to the station and under 2 minutes to reach the mall]

Dallas

Me: Hey…Am bored…shall we hit mall?

Friend: Am bored as hell too…and hubby has driven to work in the car…

Me: Same here…[resigning myself] How about a walk around the neighbourhood?

After many such frustrating days, one day we decided to hail a cab to go. And since then we decided not to even head that direction. The cost of the cab seemed a lot more than the cost of anything we even remotely considered buying.

Having my personal transport to go around to using public transport was a big shift but I adapted to it easily [to the extent of being spoilt by its availability]. Now I am unable to come to terms with the fact that unless you had 4-wheels at your disposal and with the nearest entertainment spot [and by this I mean, a grocery store…with the nearest mall being a minimum 3-5 miles away] being atleast a mile away, any semblance of an outing is out of question.

Add to this, the prospect of having to share a car with your spouse and spice it up with individual preferences, mood swings and interests and there is one hell of an entertainment….not to mention fights about whose need/boredom quotient is higher than the other’s…on a day-to-day basis. This makes me wonder…with so much of in-house entertainment, who needs to feel upset about not being mobile!!!

Eves-dropping

I was browsing the mall alone one day and was just strolling around the shops. I happened to overhear a conversation between a couple when I settled myself on one of those benches inside the mall. It wasnt intentional but it was a hilarious exchange and I couldnt help myself from making it into a blog by itself. So without much ado, here we go:

[I got to also overhear that the parents of the wife were in town and were babysitting their child while the couple were out at the mall...]

Wife: Lets go somewhere this weekend...

Husband: Ye, but what do you have in mind?!?!?!

W: Its a long weekend and lets do a 3 day trip. It would be an outing for our folks too.

H: Yes, but I dont intend spending a fortune on these 3 days. Besides, your folks cant eat bread or sanwich or any of this stuff and would want to go to a desi reataurant. That would mean a huge dent...No way!

W: The why the **** did you ask me for a suggestion?

H: Well, I thought you had something local in mind. Not an out-of-town trip.

W: Yeah right! Am sure you would have planned months ahead if it was your folks visiting and would not have spared any effort in ensuring they visited the best of places. Well, what are my folks??? Second class citizens?

H: [Looking dumbstruck...didnt know what to say...So I guessed may be the wife was right]...I never said that. Its just that if we go on a last minute trip we will end up spending a lot more than if we had planned for it before...

W: You always do this. I thought it would get better since we came onsite...Nothing has changed[The wife has a long face then says...]...Atleast lets take them to dinner today.

H: Hmmm...well my wife is the best cook in the world. So why spend money eating food that doesnt taste half as good...Besides, lets have a nice quiet dinner and then we can catch a late night movie....

W: [Looking defeated...Didnt know whether to feel happy about the compliment of a good cook or If her husband was just trying to postpone the spending...]

F*R*I*E*N*D*S

1 week before Birthday:

My Best Friend[MBF]: What plans for this birthday gal?

Me: Dunno. As usual, its gonna be a last minute thingy only.

MBF:Bla, bla, bla[Advice on what I need to do...]

1 day after Birthday

MBF: Shit, shit, shit...you know me na...Sorry, I forgot your birthday...

Me: Heehee!

MBF: Ok, tell me what you want for this birthday? A skirt/top may be...Fab India...

Me: hmmm

MBF: See, how shameless I am...I am asking you what you want for your birthday gift...

Me: Ye, its ok...whats between friends?...Make that a flowery one...the skirt and a plain sleeveless top.

And so it goes every year for our birthdays. Sometimes I forget and sometimes she does. But the scenario is the same with roles reversed, depending on whose D-day we have forgotten.

We fight...we forget birthdays and anniversaries...When we have something important or special happening in our lives, we ask our friends explicityly to wish us luck...and jovially chide them for forgetting...We are shameless with friends and there are no formalities. We might be far away from each other...But never far in minds.

Moral of the story: You need to be shameless if you need to be friends.

Bah!!!

Authentic Recipes...Who authenticates them?

"A book of authentic Indian recipes"..."Authentic Mughlai recipes"...the list of "authentic" recipe books is endless. Authentic is a very relative term. Even if the list of ingredients is the same, the quantity of each ingredient is increased or decreased as per one's taste. This means that while a recipe can be handed down from one person/generation to another, every person who makes the preparation based on the recipe adds his/her own touch to it. It could be adding a pinch of sugar or lime juice or replacing 5 green chillies with 3 green and 2 red chillies and so on.


So who determins what is authentic? Unless a recipe is invented by someone, who alone knows the original taste of the preparation, I am not exactly sure what authentic implies...You could add on your 'Authentic" thoughts too...