The search is on...Operation Search

Peaceful existence for an educated and independent woman is very difficult and only the fittest can survive. Everyday, life throws new challenges at her, but the strong willed and self-reliant woman fights all odds and emerges as the ultimate winner. However there are two things she finds extremely tiring, draining and rather difficult to cope with ….one is the search for a good husband and second a rented accommodation.

My soul sister (SS) in apni Dilli (the smartest, strong willed & intelligent person I know) is trying to deal with these demons that haunt her. I heard her grievances and felt awful. The very next day the selfless and ever helpful part of me decided to be her savior. Aware of my prior experience in recruitment (executive search) SS saw a ray of hope in me, and decided to give it a second shot. That’s how I signed up for ‘Operation Search’.

At first we started two separate searches thinking they are different...but soon after a few first hand experiences noticed striking similarities. The fact remains that one can keep changing houses till they find the perfect one, but certainly cannot do the same for a husband. But experiences during these seemingly different searches have serious resemblances.
I’m sure you may be wondering how can the experiences during the search for a good husband be similar to those from the search for a rented accommodation…trust me… they are…read on to know how ;)

Classified
It all begins with the ad in the newspaper. The attributes in black and white look alluring and very tempting. You start dreaming and making future plans even before weighing the options and doing a reality check.
Your heart says—“This is it”…mind says ---“snap out of it girl” and you unwillingly trudge your way out of dreamland. The next logical step - make a call. So you pick up the phone and dial the number mentioned in the ad… the phone on the other end rings…and rings…and rings… and rings…and rings…
Once again you find yourself drifting into dreamland….hmmmm….
Suddenly a loud HELLOOOO brings you back to reality and you find yourself at a firing range. You are being bombarded with questions left...right and centre...questions about who are you, what do you do, which place do you belong too, where do your parents stay, education, caste, do you cook - veg or non veg, etc etc.
At first you tackle the questions one by one...as they come...Then you say to yourself…what the **** and without thinking twice BANG goes the phone.
Surprised by the questions…don’t be…This is the typical questionnaire landlords and to be in-laws follow.

Exteriors versus the true picture
This time the ‘classified’ level has been cleared and you decide to move to level 2. Wow! What progress ;)
After a hard day’s work you travel to the other end of town to do a reality check. Traffic jams have sucked the life out of you but one glance (that too from far) brings you back to life.
The looks and perks are all appealing. Foundation too looks strong and deep rooted, but once face to face…you start noticing things…the well grounded and strong rooted structure has several weak links…the advantages start turning into disadvantages.
What next….you pretend to get a text msg from office and immediately leave for an important meeting.

Independent and open minded - Please excuse !!
It’s time to rope in an expert…the so called middleman for help. Believe me it’s a good business opportunity for those who like to talk, have convincing skills and aren’t made for a typical 9 to 5 job. At first he seems very enthusiastic about the whole thing and gives us many assurances. He is excited to find you the prefect deal coz he never imagined a smart, independent and intelligent woman coming to him for help. It’s a challenge for him...Sweet Challenge ;)
1st week he calls several times….out of sheer excitement. He goes back to his classy office and evaluates the offers he can make. Then he starts making calls to the other parties. Slowly calls from the middleman reduce…tables turn…you start following up.
Finally one day you land up at his office full of rage. He is caught unguarded and tries to pacify you. Then after gathering all his strength he finally puts the facts in front of you and says …“Ka kare maadumji.. sab bolte hai - Independent and open minded – nahi chahiye…required only gharelu log.
What next….you give him a look and leave.

Limitless Limitations
One day out of the blue and almost suddenly you find what have been looking for. Just like in your dreams….decent, appealing, accommodating, modern yet with a strong foundation…But your dream is crushed to pieces as soon as the rightful owners pull out their list of dos and donts. At first you say to yourself - what the heck?. Then you take a deep breath and think calmly. Thought suggests ---a few adjustments here and there won’t make a difference... after all who doesn’t have to make adjustments.
You snap out of your thoughts and try to concentrate on what is being said. Soon the demanding list exceeds your list of reasons to be there in the first place.
What next- You pretend to be unwell and rush out to get some fresh air. Once out of the uncomfortable surrounding you run as fast as you can.

After all the running around, we thought that an ad in the newspaper would be the best thing to do. Instead of SS searching and approaching people how about people approaching her. Probably that’s what people who are tired of searching do…put up an ad to be found.
After much thought, we came up with a common classified ad. It read…

I’m sure SS will find at least one of the two…a good husband or a decent place to rent through the ad.
I just wish she finds a dilwala in Delhi who will be by her side forever and then buy her a nice big house. :)

Trust me....there is a time

There is a time…between TODAY and TOMORROW
With joys abundant and fewer sorrows.

Its when...
The world is at my feet… and any super hero I can defeat

Its when...
Bosses bring no regret… when a meeting/ presentation I intentionally neglect

Its when...
Monthly pay checks keep cashing… without targets, deadlines and the daily slogging

It’s when…
Everything I wear looks pretty and flattering… not fretting if it’s short or long or ill fitting ;)

Its when…
Birthdays come more than once a year… leaving behind wrinkles, worries and aging fears

It’s when…
I can fly to places near or far… avoiding the muddle of trains, buses or cars

You may wonder if I’ve lost my mind
Just close your eyes and the answer you’ll find
It’s the time…christened as NIGHT
That comes with the moon, stars and dreams…that seem so right.

Re-discovering the known

I still remember the look on his face…the bliss...the contentment…the satisfaction.
At 92, Dadaji (my paternal Grandfather) had been there…Seen it all…Read it all…Done it all...
Born during the British Rule, losing his father at 4 in France during the 2nd world war, marriage at the tender age of 9, running away from home in his teens to quench his thirst for knowledge, joining the army at 24 against his mother’s wish, losing his mother, birth of his children, playing tennis, early retirement from the army, children getting married, back to work with a company in Pune, retirement again, birth of his grand children, saving enough to build a beautiful house in Dehra Doon…my birthplace, moving to Doon, grand children getting married, moving back to Pune due to issues concerning his health, birth of great grand children, quitting tennis, partial memory loss and finally paralysis.

He was 71 when I was born…thin, tall, athletic and with his 32 teeth intact even at that age. I’m quite sure if one were to make all people his age stand together he would stand out …not because of his height…coz he never looked his age. He could easily pass off for someone 5- 10 years younger.

As a child I spent some memorable times with him…watering the veggies in his kitchen garden, planting saplings, going grocery shopping with him on his bicycle, morning walks with him and “Gora” his pet dog (a cute Lhasa Apso), sitting and watching him from the side lines of the tennis court while he coached youngsters, meeting his friends during evening walks…But we never spoke much. He was a man of few words and I was a quiet child.

In the years to come we interacted several times on various occasions but the conversations between us were short and precise…mostly around me, my studies and my life. I guess it was the age difference or may be the generation gap that reduced the length of our dialogues.

When he passed away the look on his face left me with a strange feeling. I felt as though I had missed something…
As though there was a part of him that I didn’t know
As though there was something more than what I had heard from my father about him…probably something about the 70 years of his life before I knew him.
I regretted not making an effort to know the person he had been, about his past, his achievements, good times, bad times, trials, tribulations, adventures …in short all that made him so satisfied with the way he had led his life.

Years passed by and the very thought of not trying, not making that extra effort, left me melancholy.
Then out of the blue and almost suddenly I got my hands on a few old albums. Exactly like the ones seen in movies…the ones used to show something old…ancient…or of a past era. Albums in which black & white photographs are pasted with sticky brown glue on black tinted sheets and butter paper separates every black page. On further investigation I got to know that they belonged to the one person I regretted not knowing - Dadaji.
My just found treasure thrilled me coz not only did the album have photographs of him, but they also had neatly typed and equally neatly pasted dates and subtitles under each photograph. I was surprised to see how well each page was compiled and each event well documented… just like a journal.

As I went through the albums I felt as if he was there with me…taking me through each page…date by date…event by event…telling me a story of a handsome young man who was outgoing, loved travelling, enjoyed spending time friends and family, a complete foodie, fond of dressing well, crazy about Tennis, fascinated by capturing moments on camera (trust me he was really good at it), brave and fortunate enough to survive dangerous expeditions and a great story teller. Everything that he wasn’t in the years I had known him.
This was the story I had never heard…
Things about him I never knew…
Things I longed to know…
Things he wanted me to know…
Things I was destined to find out.

After 3 albums and a few dozen loose photographs the story ended just before the time I was born…as though telling me -“you know what happened next”

The handsome young man - My Grandfather

The army man (centre)