Skip to main content

Cupid's Day

The hearts in the mastheads of a few national dailies were an early morning reminder to Valentine's Day. The papers ran amok -- they had articles on couples who sizzle, guides for the romantically challenged, a 'did you know' about the world's most expensive V-Day card, etc., etc., etc. Elsewhere in the US, Valentine’s Day is a $14-billion industry they wrote. India, too, is raking in the moolah. So TV channels are playing it up to the hilt and radio stations are in their moony best.

I am a hopeless romantic but I have never celebrated Valentine's Day. I am, in fact, quite at odds with V-dayers and the parties, the candle-light dinners, the exchange of gifts, and so on. A colleague looked at me and said “you must be definitely going for a party tonight’. People assume too much. Also, little did she know I am still waiting for the God of love to oblige me with that one-of-its-kind Valentine date. My only connect to all things love(ly) today has been the SMSes from all and sundry. Even as I pen this, beep comes a 'happy Valentine's Day mausi' from my cousin's 12-year-old daughter. The first from my friend Natasha in Sydney said: If you are single wear pink, if not wear some colour (I forget). Do I call this madness or do I call this love?

It is funny the things people do in the name of love. I envy people with this feverish buff of energy I would say (something I lack, perhaps plain lazy) -- picking flowers to express themselves, planning surprises, taking hours of life away thinking how all to please the other... I remember a friend who filled her rooms with balloons and candles and ordered food to spend a memorable V-Day only to find the beau was so caught up at work that by the time he arrived, the candles were burnt out, the food cold and she fuming. Very filmy! I told her, what to me, was almost true, nothing happens when you plan too much. But it was just one of a case, I am sure she had happier times to make amends. Hmmm... I am just rambling, losing my mind I guess trying to make sense of the hoopla around this day. Happy Valentine's Day all the same!

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

A Mad Man Or A Boor

What does one do when one encounters a mad dog? Or what does one do when one encounters a man with pre-fixed notions about everything in life, most specifically of women who live alone and give him some importance? The two are equivalent to me and basic intelligence says avoid the paths they tread like plague. But I chose to tackle them head on. I almost got rabbies. The mad man said [sic] " You sound like a very desperate person. A single and frustrated woman who is looking for anyone to leave a comment on your blog so much so that you wouldn't even spare a spammer ." Spammer being, the first comment on the previous post is apparently a spam, an advert for T-shirts. Bummer! I thought it was a handsome Spaniard or Latino, so I had replied "Hi Rodrigo", hoping to take the conversation forward offline. Anyway! All this the mad man found out. I didnt. Sure, I dig comments because I love the spontaneity and intelligence of my friends. And I didn't invite the ma

O-B-A-M-A

Two million people at the National Mall in Washington alone. The world watched too as Barack Obama was sworn in as the 44th President of the United States. So did I. I rudely cut roomie's soap operas and switched to CNN to witness history being created. Some day I may live to tell the tale of how Barack, the much touted Afro-American President of the United States, stumbled with his swearing-in oath. I was a bit disappointed as I watched the man who had run the most successful of election campaigns, the man who Americans were pinning their hopes on, take his oath. Clearly, he was under too much of a pressure to be the best. So before Chief Justice John Roberts could complete the first sentence, there was Obama abruptly breaking out into his first names... " I Barack Hussein Obama.." and then waited for the judge to complete the sentence.. The next line was even taxing. He stopped short after two words... " That I will excute ..." and then Justice Roberts cont

Good Girls Don't Drink?

I have been disturbed by the news coming out of my region – the northeast of India - where a teenage girl coming out of a bar at 9:30 pm was molested and beaten by a group of 20 men. The news has even found its way down under for the shocking nature of it. Tabloids and even TV have carried the news. I have always prided myself in belonging to a region that is known for its high tolerance and where women are generally safe and independent. But I have always felt a bit squidgy about Guwahati unlike the rest of the seven sisters. The place is so like the rest of India in many ways, dirty and claustrophobic. That explains why bars are looked upon as sleazy places and women going there beaten up as with the recent case. Just 150 km away is Shillong, the place where I grew up. Night clubs thrive there and till date there has been no case of attacks against women. Reading the news, I am appalled by some of the reactions. “But the girl was drinking,” or “only prostitutes visit that