Sunday, 31 May 2015

Privilege

Privilege
(noun)
;a special right, advantage, or immunity granted or available only to a particular person or group.
"education is a right, not a privilege" 
synonyms: advantage, right, benefit, prerogative, entitlement, birthright, due;

I come from a humble family, of generations of service goers. My mother gave me a book each time I was good or bad, she said it helped in any case.  A book for when I failed and a book for every successful milestone. A book for when I came first in class and a book for when I lied. She taught me even what she herself had never learnt. To be born not with a silver spoon in your mouth but with books in your blood and so much potential in your soul is a privilege indeed.  
I went to one of the best schools in the city of Mumbai, followed by a college that exposed me to people I admired and wanted to ape at the same time. The achievers, the intellects, the poets and the occasional genius. I was a graduate in accountancy by 2013 and before you put me off as someone who would be good only with numbers, let me tell you I count on my fingers. I was privileged to have a light to read by, a book that was not snatched away from me by force or circumstance and parents that pushed me to be my best.  
But there are children all around us, that are never able to see their true potential or ever hold a book. And it drives me, because I feel responsible. I feel the need to be involved and stop criticizing a system from the sidelines that I may not completely understand yet. I feel responsible as an educated adult, with so much to give back. As clique as it sounds, I wish to make a difference. I learnt at the age of 3 that a nuclear family is not one which is dis-joint but one which has learnt to love from a distance. And we've been ignoring our less privileged families for too long. The disparity in India scares me and makes me wonder how many people go to sleep hungry only because they were born into a different family than mine. Destined by birth to starve. I look at children and believe each of them is turning into a story worth telling, and if I can only be a facilitator in this journey. To change the life of someone who was never taught right from wrong is perhaps the biggest privilege.

I've just applied to mentor an underprivileged child you can too. Join the Green Batti Project.

This post is a part of my attempt to blog everyday for a month on the occasion of my blog completing 4 years :D Also there is a GIVEAWAY so do participate and win awesome things!



Saturday, 30 May 2015

4 Year Anniversary Giveaway

Hello! *voice echoes in empty corridors of emptiness*

If anyone is still here, listening and reading my monologues and conversations with self, you are invited to a PARTY!!! My blog completes 4 glorious strictly ordinary years this June, and I'm going to have a WAIT FOR IT...giveaway!

Mario Miranda cartoons are the love of my life! So the prize for the giveaway was obvious!


4 Year Anniversary Giveaway


The Rules are simple.

- Visit the Definitely, Maybe* Facebook page

- Follow me on TwitterInstagram and Pinterest

- Share the link to my blog for bonus points!

Each such entry earns you some points, based on which a very smart software will pick the winners at random

1st Winner gets a Mario Miranda Novelty Mug

2nd Winner gets 2 sets of Mario Miranda postcards, which are just beautiful. Let's get to letter writing again!

3rd Winner - This is really special. I am going to Bangkok next week, and the third winner will get a special gift which I will be getting from Bangkok! (So can't specify what exactly)


Tadaaaa! So take part right now. Contest closes on 30th June and winners will be announced on 3rd July.


PS: Since it's anniversary month, and my blog has been ignored for most part of last year. I am going to  try to blog everyday, starting today till 30th June, So join me, and take up the challenge?

Monday, 11 May 2015

Mum is the word.


When I was younger and someone said “You are just like your mother”, I would retaliate with a resounding “NO!”
It took me 23 years to know that my mother is the most beautiful woman I will ever know; that the first face I had recognized was of the person who would make me her world for the rest of her life. Some women are natural mothers, my mother is super-natural. No, really!
She is not the typical can-find-anything-that-is-lost (which she can), or the Bollywood inspired who knows when you are only steps away from home (which she does) but she's been unconventional in so many ways. She’s always been some kind of helicopter mother; and I had issues with that, obviously. But that is the beauty of a mother-daughter relationship; one doesn’t want to be anything like the other, while the other is always looking out to see that it never happens. “Don’t make the mistakes that I made” she says very nostalgically. But somewhere along this road, there is a chance of finding a beautiful friendship, of never ever needing a best friend again. Of never worrying about hurting someone so much that they would never speak to you again, even if they say so in the moment. The chance that you may never have to go to the movies alone. The chance that on the day you walk in with  your hair dyed electric blue  instead of a raging fit all you get is, "Its... different." 
Just like any two people who care about each other, we fight a lot, shout and scream. But the optimism with which we share ice-cream later is a tiny miracle. My mother is the glue that holds our family together, a go-to person for almost everyone in the house. In a world where children should be tied to their beds in chains, my mother never said no for anything, all she said was “Do what’s right for you” -so if you think going for a sleepover only a day before the most crucial exam of your life is the thing to do, so be it. She is my 1st expert for everything, my first example and inspiration for carrying myself into the world and its wide possibilities. For what am I if not a summation of her qualities?
On my birthdays, she wouldn’t buy me dolls or chocolates, she would buy books. On my report day, she wouldn’t be in a hurry to leave, but she would meet ALL the teachers, which was usually followed by getting me the bribe she knew I didn’t need to score well. On my graduation day, she cried and on the first overnight trip she ever sent me for, she called to ask “Can you sleep without me?” Even though my father still thinks I am 3 years old, my mother always treated me like an adult, but there are still those“You are still too young for….” arguments.
The first time I brought a guy home, she decided to shove a family-tree-scrapbook I made in 5thGrade in his face and explained to him where exactly he would fit in. And that led to the most awkward conversation of my life where I had to explain to my na├»ve mother that I didn’t intend to marry every guy I brought home, which led to several puzzled looks from her end finally ending with “Alright then, I need to cook.” The first time I had my heart broken, she said "It hurts but its okay, I understand." instead of telling me, how I was too young to be in love anyway.

I wish to be half the mother she is to me. To be half the friend she is. To be half the kind of cook she is. And with all those halves my children would be full lucky.

So now so many years later when someone says that I am just like my mother, I say “Thank you!”