Nopes I am not talking about the Romance by Ralph Lauren or the Alfred Sung creations she wears. I am talking about the true essence of being a woman. Has any man truly deeply inhaled the scent of a woman?
A true essence of a woman is her ability to dispense the perfume of love. I won’t go into the clichéd saying that to be a true woman you have to be a mother. No being a mother is the final burst of her gorgeous perfume.
Prior to that, a woman dispenses her scent in being just a woman. It’s her capability to be an independent thinker, her expertise in being a good daughter, a sister and most important being a very good friend.
Friends it’s very sad that when you inhale the scent of woman, you only inhale the perfume. Delve deep into her heart and take a deep breath. I promise you will inhale the most intoxicating aphrodisiac of this world.
Yi picked up the phone as she tended to my nails. In her heavy Chinese accented English she responds “Whoooo.. nooo she no come trabajo”, and she hangs up.
I started to laugh and asked “Yi what language was that, would you please explain to me. You spoke neither English nor Spanish, you talked in Spanglish”
Yi said to me “Sooo what, she understand, I say”
Yi is my manicurist she is Chinese and all the girls she employs are Spanish. None of them can speak English well. It’s a wonder that week after week I manage to communicate with them, and still come back with picture perfect nails.
But this week she made me realize what I already knew. You do not need command over language to make someone comprehend your thoughts. What you need is the thoughts it self.
As pointed out to me in the lobby today by two friends.. One my netflix buddy quoted René Descartes "Cogito, ergo sum" (Latin: "I am thinking, therefore I exist", or traditionally "I think, therefore I am" )
Another who is my bouncing board for thoughts,said “We do not need language to communicate, all we need is thoughts, and if you practise hard enough you can communicate through telepathy”
As we evolved into homo sapiens, our methods of communication too changed. We went from sign language to pictorial drawings, to perhaps guttural sounds and then finally language. Telepathy I think is a step we all have to practice for very hard. But I sure will try
Sometimes when a traditional method of communiqué fails we resort back to sign language or pictorial drawings. So why is it that the lingua purists make such a hoopla about language. Who cares if we can speak English the proper way. English is an enriched language because of its ability to adapt. One can find many words in English whose origins are in some other language spoken in a country far from England. For e.g. the words bungalow, market, verandah all has origins in Indian languages.
It doesn’t matter whther you speak English, Hindi, Spanish, Hinglish or Spanglish. What matters is “Sooo what, she understand, I say”.
Btw Yi was informing that an employee of hers had not come to work that day. Trabajo is work in Spanish.
Most believe that the patron saint of Valentines Day is St. Valentine who served as a priest under the emperor Cladius II in third century Rome. According to one legend, when emperor Claudius II had him imprisoned. Valentine fell in love with the daughter of his jailor, who visited him during his confinement. Before his execution Valentine wrote a letter to her signed “From Your Valentine”. A sweet expression, which we still use in all the cards, we send this day.
On Feb. 14th of each year, millions of cards, flowers, boxes of candy and even jewellery is gifted around the world. So much so that it has become a multi-billion dollar industry. An industry cashing in on love, but forgetting the sacrifice behind.
Everyone has his or her own idea of a perfect valentines day. I have one too. My perfect valentines day would go like this. My true love would wake me up with a long kiss and a lone long stemmed rose. We would then share our coffee and breakfast (preferably prepared by him) in silence. Conversing only with our eyes. (Believe me rest of the year I’ll be yakking his head off) Later we would go for a long drive, perhaps to a vineyard or to the some small village. Spending the day carefree and away from all the worries of the world. Lunch would be a small cozy affair in a small inn. Bringing us back home just in time for me to prepare dinner. For dinner I would serve him a light Italian meal, complete with oysters and a chilled bottle of chardonnay. We would have the meal under the glow of soft candlelight, and the only decoration on the table will be the long stemmed rose. Dessert now need I say anything more
Call me a romantic, but this is how I would like to spend this day of romance. Now that I have my day all planned out. All I need is someone whom I can say, “Be My Valentine”
Independence the word conjures up a picture of breaking free from shackles. Normally it is used in the political context. Most of the countries in this world including the two biggest democracies United States and India celebrate Independence Day. But I’m not here to talk about being free politically. In fact I am here to talk about being at liberty with myself.
As a little girl growing up in India; I quickly realized that I was born with a handicap. Handicap; of being a weaker sex in a male dominated society. I was very lucky to have supportive parents, who wanted me to achieve everything in life. Higher education was no problem, as it was a must for all women in my family. However, when I put forth the desire to get into the work force. My father had an uphill battle convincing our conservative family, that it was all right to do so.
My parents believed that a woman had to be financially independent to attain her personal independence. She should not be dependent on her father, brother, husband or son. Then I put forth the desire to come to USA. My goal was to learn everything that USA had to offer and make my own decisions for what is right or wrong. This time it was too much even for my parents. My mother said I could not go to USA without getting married. So I got married to a person of my parents’ choice.
Well you can imagine, a girl who had never been anywhere without her daddy. She was in a new country, with a new job, getting to know a new man in her life and his new family. Nothing could be more exciting or scarier. I loved working here, learning new technologies, new cultures, and new people. Yet somewhere there was a feeling of discontent. Could never understand why. Never felt totally free.
Now I understand, financial independence does not set a woman free. A woman is at liberty when she’s emotionally independent. Sometimes we disguise this emotional dependence in words like morals, duty and honor. It was my moral duty to uphold the honor of the family and get married to an unknown man. Yet the crux of the matter is I loved my parents too much and did not have the heart to go against their wishes.
The other day a friend of mine made me realize, that may be deep down I did want to be set free of this relationship. Yet I was too emotionally weak to do so. Therefore when my ex left me, I accepted it. Yes I do hurt. But in all that hurt there’s hope. Hope that I would finally be free to make my own choices. Live my own life. I do not have to pander to someone else’s wishes now. Road to emotional freedom is a very hard and arduous one. But I am confident I’ll make it.
Karl Marx once said, “Religion is the opiate of people”. He also believed that humans had created GOD in their own image. Albeit a righteous one.
You see humans are the most intelligent of beings. They know their shortcomings. They understand where they can go wrong. So they created this Supreme Being who can do no wrong. Yet we filled him with human emotions like love, anger, sorrow and sometimes lust.
Yes GOD can love. He gets angry and can be vengeful. He even feels our pain and if you are into Hinduism then god can be at times naughty and go for the most beautiful woman. Yet in order to be almighty, he’s given the power to create, destroy and preserve us. Once the notion of GOD was created, why did then humans require religion? Well religion as a concept was formed, when humans became social animals. Earlier we were hunters and gatherers, but once we settled down and formed a society. There came a need to bind us with certain laws for the society to run smoothly. Those laws were then called collectively as Religion.
Religion too had to undergo evolution. First we practiced paganism, where we worshipped nature or mysteries of nature that we could not explain. Then came polytheism like Hinduism. It’s a mixture of paganism and many GODS and GODESSES. Hinduism worships nature, men as GODS and women as GODDESSES. It also worships animals. So if you look deeply into Hinduism, it believes in worshipping all creations. The final enhancement to religion is in the forms of monotheistic religions like Judaism, Christianity and of course Islam. All three believe in one god, all believe that god has no form or image. The difference lies in the fact that some believe God’s messenger has been sent to us and some believe the messenger is yet to come. Of course then there are some intermediate religions like Zoroastrianism, who believe in one god, yet worship him as the basic element fire.
But the core of all religious books teaches us the righteous path to living a good life. Whether it is the Ten Commandments in the Old Testament, the 18 chapters of Gita or the couplets of Koran.
If we understand that all religions teach us to live well. Then why do we fight in the name of religion? History shows that most wars were fought for religious causes. The modern war on terrorism has been turned into a religious war. Even when all intelligent people know that terrorism has no religion, no god. Why is it we cannot respect other people’s feelings, cultural values and religious beliefs?
Personally I do not care if you make fun of my religion. Heck if I believe in worshipping a goddess with ten hands and three eyes, because she’s the epitome of power to me. If I think she’s capable of granting me all the power to go through the trials of life. Then make all the fun you want, I am going to worship her. My religious values are my own and no one is going to take them away from me.
So said by Sadhu Vaswani, a philanthropist and learned thinker from my favorite city Pune. ”Religion lets talk of it less and practice more” and lets have a little more tolerance and compassion for the other person’s beliefs.
Note: This is my viewpoint. My knowledge is very limited in any religion including Hinduism. If anywhere in this post I have made any error, please feel free to correct me.
Couple of weeks ago, Mark a co-worker of mine said, “Romita you never say to me; Mark can I offer you tea, coffee or me”.
I was taken aback at his words. At one point I was so upset, I thought of quitting my job. Then I said to myself why should I quit and run. I have not done anything wrong. Never gave him any reason to say what he just said. So I made it clear to Mark that he will never hear those words from me, ever.
Then last week I met with the first car accident of my life. When I turned up at Ron’s (my manager) office, Dave was with him. Ron who was so glad to see me safe, turned to Dave and said “Romita popped her cherry today” .
Well that had me in splits of laughter. I was holding on to my tummy and laughing so hard, that a few people turned up at the door. Ron in the meantime realized what he just said and turned a shade of crimson, which I have never seen.
Two separate incidents, two equally suggestive remarks. So why did one of them disgust me, the other amuse me? It is not because what was said, but how it was said.
A joke in a fraction of a second can turn wrong, if the accompanying facial expressions are not equivalent to it. Mark had an expression on his face, which was more offensive than his words. Ron on the other hand was his sweet self.
Banter lightens up any atmosphere especially at work. Give me a lighthearted teasing anytime of the day. One request, just keep it a repartee.
Sometimes a song, a smell, or even a view opens up the bottled up emotions inside you. It happened with me today as I was driving to work. The song, which was being played on my car CD, was Mera Kuchh Samaan from the movie Ijazzat.
Somehow this song managed to open up all these months of sadness that I had kept bottled inside me. Tears were pouring down my cheeks so fast that I could not see the road I was driving on.
The gloomy feeling stayed with me the whole day. So much so that I paged Shaitaan on YM and told him about my depression.
Towards the end I broke down again. But then this time I was not alone.
Natalie, whose cubicle is opposite to me, came to check whether I was blowing my nose due to cold or there was something else going on. Dave in his customary style peeked over the top of the cubicle wall and gave me his lopsided grin.
Within seconds those two were by my side. Natalie comforting and caring. Dave saying I looked gorgeous; even though I had red puffy eyes and nose and the make up streaming down my face. Then there was Ron my manager next to me. One look and all he said was “Having a bad day eh”. Ron did not ask me to go home. Instead he advised me on my upcoming trials and tribulations.
Ron advised me, Natalie comforted me and Dave made fun of himself to extract a smile from me. Shait I can still feel your trans oceanic hug, which you send through the YM.
In the end all my special people managed to turn a very bad day into a comforting day. Something the likes of a warm chicken soup for my soul.
At times I feel like thanking my ex. You without whom I used to think I would not be able to live. You should know that I’m still alive. I’m alive because I may have lost you, but then I have gained many good friends. Friends whose goodness I might have never known. I thank you for abandoning me.
Wonder if it must have been easy for Sun Tzu to write the Art of War, or for Vatsyayan to write about the Art of Making Love (aka Kamasutra).
How come we have literature on both the extremes but none for the true meaning of love? For ages people have been trying to solve the mystery called GOD. Is love even a bigger mystery that no one tried to solve it at all?
To me GOD is no mystery at all; I believe GOD is nothing but an anagram for DOG. Friends do not get scandalized I am no atheist. In fact like any true Hindu, I believe GOD is omnipresent in all of us. From the tiniest of bacteria to the most complex of his creations, us human beings. If we can respect each other in all aspects of life then we would have solved the mystery called GOD.
But Love now that’s a totally different ball game. How do we solve this mystery called love? It is so simple that its letters cannot be twisted around to form another word; and yet it is so complex that it takes us more than a lifetime to understand it.
Have we trivialized this emotion by associating it with anything and everything? After all we love cars, dresses, parents, animals, babies, books and then we have one true love. Is it the first time I cried reaching out for my mother; or is it the first beating of the heart when I looked into his eyes; or is it the pangs of hunger I feel when I see the delicious tiramisu
Ohhh I would kill for an encyclopedia that would tell me the true meaning of love
Why is it that people who chat very nicely in the lobby, completely change their personality when they chat in private?
Since discretion is the name of the game, I would definitely not give out any names. But here is a question I would like to present to the lecherous chatters. What makes you think that all women, who are on this forum are sexually frustrated and are here in search of discreet sex.
I have had a chatter on my messenger, who was so insistent that he does not want to talk about sex, that every two or three minutes into a conversation, he would reiterate it. This led me to believe that indeed all he wanted was to talk sex, hence I bid him goodbye.
Another gentleman, (wonder if that's an appropriate term to be used for him or not) said he would like to have a discreet physical relationship only. He then proceeded to describe his sexual prowess. When I gave him half hearted responses, he bid me adieu saying I was not his type. Good for me too.
Here is my advice to gentlemen like these, Please do not tell me how you can stimulate me with a tablespoon of honey or a cube of ice. Instead talk to me, draw me into a meaningful conversation. Goad me into an exciting debate, only then you might get to hear from me. Stimulate me please.
Today a discussion in the lobby compelled me to question about the fine print of fairy tales.
I was asked what was the difference between a loyal prince and a charming prince. My answer a loyal prince to me is always charming, but a charming prince not necessarily is always loyal.
As a little girl growing up I read and perhaps believed in Cinderella or Snow White’s prince charming. Believed may be there was a charming prince waiting for me too.
I was taught how to read these stories aloud, look and admire the pretty pictures. But no one ever taught me to read the fine print present in every story. Not a single tutor told me that all fairy tales do not have a happy ending.
Not always the toad you kiss turns into a prince. Sometimes the toad you kissed remains, just a toad. Why do all fairy tales stop where the beautiful girl rides with her prince towards the sunset?
Never did anyone say that Cinderella when she walked into the sunset with her prince faced a dark and gloomy night. Where the prince instead of holding on to her hand, abandoned her.
All fairy tales should come with a fine print. They should mention that it is possible Snow White never woke up from her deep sleep, as no one felt like kissing her. Or that Cinderella after the ball never had a chance to go out again. Since her prince did not bother to go looking for her with the glass slippers.
The fine print should be please do not stop at the sunset. As there’s life beyond that. And be prepared to face the dark scary night.
Oops I did a boo boo today. On my way to work this morning, While driving I rear ended another car. Although the accident was minor and no one was hurt, but I felt really bad. You see this is the first time I had an accident, in all my years of driving.
It taught me something, the fact that I have the ability to accept responsibility when I am at fault. And also that I do not panic when faced with adversity .
The other driver’s car had a fender bender, and mine just had two scratches, hardly noticeable.
So even after the accident I still went to work. Life moves on it does not stop right.
Why is it that we heal so fast from a physical accident, but take ages when we have the same emotionally?
If I get a good paint job done on my dear car its scratches would be hardly noticeable. Wonder how many layers of paint would be required to hide the scratches on my heart?
in silence. Conversing only with our eyes. (Believe me rest of the year I’ll be yakking his head off) 
