Not Another Mushy Valentine's Day Post!!

I know, I know. Valentine’s day is just around the corner! Another month of pink hearts and red roses! UGH!! The moment someone mentions the word ‘February’, red heart-shaped balloons come to my mind! And I hate myself for it! My roommate, I’ve realized, is a hater. She’s happily single and that doesn’t have anything to do with her being anti-Valentine.  Well, she’s one of those rare gems who threatened her then-boyfriend with a red card if he even acknowledges V’day. A week back, she’s already started making mental notes on what to put up on her Facebook status for the 14th.

My hostel, on the other hand, celebrates Valentine’s day each year with Dinner and Dance party. It has been tradition since this co-ed hostel opened 6 years ago! I don’t really need a special day or a commercialized festival to have good food and shake my booty ‘cause I do it in my room on daily basis anyway (minus the good food).  It’s, however, downright mean fun to sit on the top ledge, which has the best view of the badminton court (read hostel dancefloor), bundle up in blankets against the cold night and laugh at hostel mates dancing! Gawd! I’d even bring out my good blanket to see that 6’1, hairy, curly-haired, paunchy, one-time Hostel President doing his annually updated pole-dancing routine yet again!! Mr. Gladrags sure knows how to make use of the poles holding the badminton nets! A must watch on every single Hostel Dance! I don’t know if the recent “MMS clip” will somehow curb the Hostel committee from holding such a party! I sure hope not!

I prefer to call myself indifferent towards V’day. But today, I realised I’m more on the colder side when I got offended after a friend asked me about my Valentine plan. I knew that it was far from his intention to offend me but why would this guy want to know about my V’day plan??? It’s not like he asks me about how I spend my Christmas. Fine, I have a steady boyfriend but does that mean we have to go out on a date, plan a dinner, whatever, on this particular day!

  

Two years back, I remember, we ‘preponed’ V’day, took a day off and spend the whole day visiting different museums and art galleries. We ate what we pleased, lounged in a park and commuted in local buses. It was the best Valentine date ever and it didn’t even happen on the 14^th!! To top it all, we didn’t get lecherous looks or attacked by the Shiv Sena! :D :D  

So recalling that day, here I am, writing a list of Top Ten Reasons why I shouldn’t go on a date on Valentine’s day this year!

1.    CLICHÉ’s the word. Why would I need a specific day to show my love for a person? Why 14^th February? What significance does it have to you? C’mon, let’s face it, even the origins of the festival still remains obscure. I know I sound mean when I say that the vague story of an old priest hundreds of years ago doesn’t have anything to do with me sharing a special day with the one I love. And when I do share a day, the old priest is absolutely the last person on my mind!
2. It's expensive!!! Especially on my student’s budget! A stem of rose costs five to ten times as much as you would get otherwise! And I genuinely hate all the “ his’ and hers’ “ merchandises
3. I get disgusted by the amount of PDA on the streets on this day!
4. This year, 14^th February is a Monday. (Yes, I’ve done my research!). On Mondays, I get up late, plan my week and head to the library. As dull as it may sound, no compromise with my routine for pink hearts and red balloons! And Phabo (Read Boyfriend) works on Mondays. Full periods. Why meet on a busy Monday when he’s free in the weekend??
5. I wear make-up on Sundays. Not on Mondays. There’s no way I’m putting on mascaras on a Monday. It’s hazardous to health; it’s against humanity; it’s against the laws of nature!
6. I sincerely don’t like the superficial pity that couples have for their single friends (Mine included) when it's actually the couples who need pity on V'Day. Some of my best Valentine’s days spent was when I was single (**wink*wink**).
7. The very sensitive Phabo will feel obligated to buy me a gift if we go out that day, fuss over what to get me (trust me, he’s bad at it) and bite his nails wondering if I’ll like it (Not his hottest act!).And I, in turn, will feel bad that he feels obligated, feels uncreative and gets panic-attacked (respectively).[Note to Phabo: Burn me a CD or write me a heartfelt note instead. Thanks.]
8. Valentine’s day is such a hallmark festival! Did I ever mention that I particularly dislike hallmark cards?? Well, I do. I prefer handmade ones. And with the creativity of my super other, my chances of getting one is slim to none.  [Note to Phabo: the heartfelt note]
9. My V’date would make me miss out on the Hostel scene. The only good food special dinner we get in a month, the top ledge seat, the feet dangling and disco lights. Mr. Gladrags doesn’t pole-dance everyday!! (I know you’re probably accusing me of choosing the pole-dancer over Phabo, but you have to see him bump and grind before you judge me!)
10.  Since I turned 18, my dad buys me a really expensive good perfume on Valentine’s day every year, provided I’m single. Well, this year, I dress in black, stand in silence and lament over the loss of Chanel No. 5.

So there you go. Now you know why I wouldn’t go out on a date on Valentine’s day.

But consider this a fair warning; for I will cut you in half if you ask me about my plans for this Valentine’s day again!

See, I told you, I’m not a hater, just indifferent!

Have a memorable Valentine's Day everyone!

Scale-Climbing

So after months of deciding, I finally got myself a weighing scale.  I hesitated for months only because I wasn’t sure about keeping a scale in my room lest I become obsessed with weighing myself again. I somehow, have always been comfortable with my body (even though I’m ‘pleasantly plump’) but since turning quarter-centurion (??), I decided to watch my weight. Vanity plays a questionable role in this decision. It’s not hilarious when you have to try on 23 pairs of jeans to find the perfect one which fits your curves! But mostly, I’ve become health conscious after years of watching my father with hypertension and an aunt with osteoporosis. With weak hearts from my father’s line and cancer from my mother’s side, I must say, I should be taking good care of my health.

I’ve finally kicked the habit of stocking up instant noodles in my room (the noodles in my tuck shelf are my roommates’! Pinky swear! And I promised to stop sharing!), stopped with fizzy drinks, cut down on red meat  pork, increased raw chlorophyll intake and started getting up early to go jogging! Phew!! And to top of all my hard work, I finally got around to having a scale in my room, hoping it’ll inspire me to weigh less stay fit!

Phabo (Read boyfriend) showed support in my recent fight for fitness and announced with pride that he’d buy me the scale. But after seeing the price tag and being the cool girlfriend that I am, I volunteered to pay half! I came back to my room proudly carrying the scale. My roommate screamed “Reality Check!!” when she saw me. Reality Check indeed!

So it’s been a few days since I bought it. And my favourite pastime is climbing on top of the scale. I check my weight before I eat, after I’ve eaten, before I go to bed, as soon as I get out of bed, with jeans, without jeans, with jacket, without jacket, with heels, bare feet, with boots, pre-library time, post-library time, pre-centre visits, post-centre visits. You name it, I’ve done it! It’s more like a game to me, climbing on it.

But unlike my fascination with naming everything I frequently use (like my e-toothbrush - Dr.Hawlkima , my e-blanket -  Lalbela , my hairbrush - Prof. Tawnengi,  my mini-fridge – Sir Viking , my hot-water bag - Calvin HotBod, my netbook - Lady Scarlett, mp3player – Pastor Zairemsiama, my woofer – Upa Thumvunga, my phone - Tv. Phuntinthanga etc.),  I haven’t quite come up with a name for this blue beast of burden weighing scale. And after all that he’s been through, I believe he deserves a really good name! Poor thing, I’m literally riding it! I can imagine him grunting “No! Not again!” every time I go near it. Of course, that imagination doesn’t stop me from doing what I do best – scale-climbing!

So it’s back to square one! I AM obsessed with weighing myself! I am, however, crystal clear with the fact that this obsession alone won’t help me stay fit. After all, I’m obsessed with weighing myself, and not with controlling my weight!

And with the hope that this obsession, just like all other obsessions, will one day wear off, I go scale climbing, yet again!

Against Cancer...

It all started when my roommate came across a certain pamphlet about a certain walk against cancer on World Cancer Day.

Cancer. The word made me sit up. I decided then and there that I will be a part of the walk.

So, Sunday Morning, after a fitful sleep, my roommate and I left for the venue which we still have to locate. All we know is that the walk will be flagged off at some sports ground at Vinay Marg in ChanakyaPuri at 8:30 AM. We left campus at 7:00 am, sleep deprived and hungry. We reached the venue before the gates were opened and we were one of the first people to spot-register!

The event turned out to be an international event organised by an NGO CanSupport. The walk aimed to sensitise people about the growing threat of cancer and the need to face this challenge by aiding the growth of services that help people cope with the aftermath. Rubbing shoulders with VIPs, ambassadors and cancer survivors, we walked 4kilometres that day around ChanakyaPuri.

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In the crisp morning air, with late-winter sunrise, it felt good to be a part of something worthwhile. It was an emotional moment for me when cancer survivors took their ‘lap of honour’ in the sports ground. They were later carried in a special vintage cars and motorbikes at the 4 km walk. People from all age groups, different nationalities and backgrounds were present in the walk. Children on bikes and rollerblades ran along us, while toddlers in prams with milk bottles could be spotted occasionally. We all walked against Cancer, we walked for hope and support !

Cancer survivors walking the 'lap of honour'. They were the rockstars of the day!

Walking down the scenic Shanti Path at ChanakyaPuri!

I walked for my mother, who succumbed to a battle with cancer seven years ago. I remember the agony that this dreadful disease threw the family into; I remember the hopelessness the family felt when Mom was diagnosed; I remember the pain of letting her go and the dark, dark cloud that shrouded us in the years that followed. I won’t want anyone else; any family to go through that. Yet, every other month, I hear news about a distant relative, a neighbour, a family friend inflicted with the disease. There’s not much I can do for them except pray. But today I walk. I walk for all my far and near ones who suffer from and who succumbed to cancer.

I walk for hope, I walk for support, I walk against cancer!

Candle of Light.

Be a candle of light;
To someone today.
Bring hope and care;
A long their way.

Reach out your hand;
To a survivor’s path,
Help them now;
To smile and laugh.

For love is healing,
No greater gift.
Found in a heart;
Who gave a lift.

Mona Adams . .. survivor

Dual Identity??

I remembered the first time I felt different for being a Lai. I was 9.

I stood second in class, getting ahead of my best friend who was also my classmate and who also lived in the same locality. The next day she blurted in class, “Ka nu in ‘Hmingthanzuali te chu Pawi Chhia alawm an nih. Anni hnam chhia aiin engngatinge I tihchhiat?’ min ti”.

I cried on my way home that evening.

Yes, I am 100% Lai. Trace both my parents and you will not find a single drop of Lusei blood in my veins. Yet I was born in Saiha, the Mara capital where my father was previously posted and I grew up in Aizawl where my family settled down. My name is definitely not a Lai name. The first language I speak is Mizo and I like Puanchei much more than Hnika. I know that my parents hailed from the south and as a child I looked forward to visiting my grandparents at the end of every year. I know I am a Lai and I also embraced myself as a Mizo. Yet at the tender age of 9, I didn’t know that being a Lai, would somehow provoke my best friend (or her mother?) into labelling me to something as derogatory as ‘Pawi chhia’!

After that incident, I struggled to embrace myself for years. I always thought that being a Lai would somehow mark me apart. And I hated being different! I didn’t like being a minority.

When I reached high school, my life changed. My best friend and I drifted apart due to some reason and I learnt how to embrace myself. I started learning Lai, my ethnic language and explored the traditional norms. I talked to a few family members asking why we are called Pawi in the north rather than Lai. I traced back history, what little we had, read some papers back from even the colonial period. My research was mostly fuelled with anger and past bruises. I made a conclusion but never reached reconciliation. I taught and convinced myself to be proud of who I am and my lineage. But I prefer to stay silent! Silent, when a neighbour accused a family friend saying “Pu Muana hian kan vengah Pawi chhe veng a siam” Our family colony had just come up and Pa Muana had helped us acquire the land. I stayed silent when I feel alienated; silent when I feel different!

When I was in college in Shillong, a good friend of mine who was also a one-time Lai Student’s president told me about an incident. He was invited to certain tribe fresher’s social where he was given time for a 2 minute speech. In his speech he mentioned that we, Lais, Luseis, Maras, Hmars etc are all Mizos. After he was done speaking, he realized not a single person in the hall gave him a clap. He told me he felt all eyes on him as he walked back to his seat. The next person who stood up however thundered to a huge applause “Lai chu Lai, Mizo chu Mizo, Mara chu mara. Chu chu chatuana kan nihna tur ani!” I clearly remember his sour smile as he said “Mizo nih do fe fe hi chu kan awm mawle”.

When I finally came to Delhi for my post-graduation in Linguistics, for the first time I felt special for being a minority. Since I speak a language, two languages in fact, which are lesser known, my term papers and my presentations were always viewed with keen interest by my professors. In fact, one professor stole a Mizo sound from my term paper for a Phonetics Practical Exam. I smiled silently and transcribed it while my classmates scratched their heads. And finally now, for my PhD, I picked a topic on the typological study of Mizo and Lai. It will be another four years before I familiarize and master myself with this topic, but even just writing a synopsis on two languages I call my own, makes me excited. I know that I will learn more about myself in the coming four years through my topic. Apart from that, I will be the lucky one when I go for fieldwork with half of my relatives, who still reside in the south, are still fluent with the language and still well-versed with Lai traditions.

Today, I’ve finally reached reconciliation.

I am a Lai. I am a Mizo.

I have learnt that being a Lai doesn’t stop me from being a Mizo. And being a Mizo will not swallow up my Lai identity either.

I prefer to be silent but don’t blame me if I laugh when so-called-best-friends call me ‘Pawichhia’ and certain wasted neighbours talk about ‘Pawichhe Veng’. I have to come to learn that in life, irrespective of tribe and caste, it’s always the small people who try to keep other ‘small’ people down. Those people are the ones who are insecure about their own identity. Those people are actually the ‘Hnam Chhia’.

January: Highs and Lows

Well it's second week of February already! And my review of January, my highs and lows; my yays and nays finally got listed!

Highs

E-blanket/bedwarmer: Eversince my college days in Shillong, by October, I always swear I’ll get married. Well, because of the cold. And the winter ‘swearings’ followed me down to Delhi.

Well, not this winter!! A friend of mine got a new e-blanket/bedwarmer and ordered one for me too (all the way from Champhai). We named it ‘Lalbela’!! With Lalbela to warm my bed before I get in who needs a warm body next to you? I survived the cold Delhi winter only with a single blanket, and it’s all thanks to my Lalbela.

Jogging started: After almost six months, my four year old jogging shoes are finally put to use. I jog 5 km in THE MORNINGS! Waking up at 6 AM in Delhi winter can be painful, but somehow I rolled out of my bed and put on my shoes and jogged. I was just so proud of myself that I have to pick up the phone and call my dad!

Microsoft One Note: I am so so in love with this darling. I’ve been handling everything from daily notes to timetables to brochure designs to research notes with this baby.

Facebook’s Cityville: One word: ADDICTIVE!!

Wella Kolestint hair colour: Finally a grey coverage without drying my ‘steel-wooly’ hair. I am not the type to usually colour my hair. But a friend of mine once told me that I couldn’t rock the salt and pepper look even with my confidence. I colour my hair ONCE a year. Repeat ONCE a year. But I gave in this year to Wella Kolestint Colour. No more greys and yes! I do rock the Plum hair rather than the grey temples.

This picture - definitely a high! I found this stack of newspapers in a friend’s room and I simply have to click a picture with it!! Seems he was saving it for rainy days! What can I say?? I admire persistence (and height!).

My new 10 inch screen Netbook: Worth every penny! I’m in love with it. I'm still hoping to blackmail my Dad into buying me a new desktop so that I wouldn't dump everything on this baby. I know, I'm being greedy but I really miss photoshopping!

Lows

Snail MTNL connection: It’s three weeks and counting for these MTNL people to connect the modem after the phone connection!

Winter Dandruff really got me to oiling my hair with all kinds of oil, some of which gave me permanent headache with their smell. I gave up, bought a pack of Nizral and there goes my dandruff (and my almost silky tresses)!! I feel like I have jute on my head rather than hair! :(

Writer's block??? I can’t bring myself to write a single page for my research work! I should sit in the library more often!

Torn contact lenses speak for itself. I have to wait for my next fellowship installments for a new pair of contacts. Until then, i'll give rest to eye make-up and look dorky!

Well, there goes my month! I hope to have more highs in February! :D