INDIRA LAISRAM

A friend once confided, you can love two people at one time. "How?" I asked. "Maybe you can be attracted to two or three people at one time, but not love," I said. "No, you can," she was convinced. I wasn't. "You are either in love with one or none," I thought. My thought is so cliche. Almost everyone that I know of have multiple relationships. It's so common that I have no more reactions with the revelations. Except for one friend, who says she knows her priorities and that she loves her husband more than her boyfriend, I am not so sure the others are that honest. I couldn't imagine talking so openly about this earlier, but now it's a given that life is getting crowded for most people. And they seem to manage it pretty well -- along with their careers, kitty parties, shopping and domestic chores and families. Juggling all these -- office, dinner plans , dates seem such a smooth ride. It's not about manipulation or sleaze, I

I am tempted to pen down another piece on Delhi after Deepika's (post below) spontaneous overflow of powerful emotions. Lutyen's Delhi, home to myriads of students, professionals, migrants from other states and expats is a world in itself, where you learn the lessons of life on a daily basis. If there is one common emotion that people share with this cosmopolitan capital of India, it is love and hate. And the reason why I call it a paradox. I have lived for over a decade in Delhi and it is strange I haven't been able to call it home. Ask a third person and the chances of getting a similar reply are 100 per cent. Why is Delhi so feelingless? Why do people find it difficult to love Delhi? Why is it that a city that also gives us so much doesn't earn the respect it is due? The answers are but fathomable. Like Deepika, I too came to Delhi -- raw, eager to experience the city's novelties and find a decent job. Getting a decent break was not as tough as living in the ci

This is a post from my my ex-roomie, colleague and one of my best friends Deepika Sahu. Deepika said she had written something on Delhi. I always loved her flair for writing and asked for it. Without a second thought, she mailed me and here I am putting it up. Told her on and on to set up a blog but she refuses to be caught in this blogosphere, for now at least. I was 19 when I first arrived in Delhi. The magnificient setting sun against the backdrop of imposing buildings in India's capital city certainly looked inviting. But it was a heady a feeling in the mind of a young girl leaving home for the first time; unsure, a little bit scared, too, with the baggage of a different world from a sleepy town called Bhubaneswar. In the beginning, Delhi meant JNU, my university campus. In a city like Delhi, it was an island (I really don't know what it's like now), but then to feel life, one needs to get out of the island and test the water. It has been long journey now. Some memories

First the sweets, then the noise, then the pollution, and then the 'mangne walles' . Suddenly, you find yourself swarmed by people you have never seen, their hands stretched out for Diwali bakshis (gifts), imploringly.The eunuch, the garbage collector, the municipality sweeper, the postman, the car-washer, the parking boy, just anybody and everybody. When the begging becomes incessant, you reluctantly dole out the money. Your reputation is built by how much you give out. This culture of Diwali gifts is alien in my part of the country. Diwali for us meant decorating the house, planting banana trees around the gates, making marigold garlands which were attached to a long bamboo pole. And on it sat the candles and diyas as dusk broke in. A family puja wrapped the evening's ritual, then would come friends and relatives and we in turn would go hopping from one neighbour's house to the other for a taste of their prasad. My mother would prepare her special kheer (sweet di

It’s Halloween at the other end of the globe. Ironic, as I type away into the dead of the night while the world is celebrating the days of the dead. A friend from the States said his little daughter woke up all excited to ‘play spooky tricks’. For me, I think Halloween sets the tone for the festive seasons ahead -- Diwali, the festival of lights in India, and Christmas and the New Year the world over. I love this part of the year. It’s so autumn, autumn. And the chill in the air that touches the skin just feels right! It was different when I was growing up. Festivities then began in end-November, the onset of a long, raucous winter holiday. And with it, reliving spooky tales.The place: my maternal village. Reinforcing the tales were my aunts and uncles who lived there. Every night, after dinner we would hop on to one big bed and then start the stories one by one -- the elders getting a thrill out of our very frightened looks. The ones that immediately come to mind are of the fairies