Microwaveable Happiness

MICROWAVEABLE HAPPINESS.

Instant coffee, instant anger, this age is living on the “instant” buzzword. Instant gratification is not the only recipe for happiness. You are searching for modern happiness and you feel the old fashioned variety takes too long. You are looking for upgraded happiness. You want the new, improved version of a 3.06 release.
This is the 21st century and you demand instant gratification. You are hungry, you go to a super market, pick up one of those frozen-in-time self-kill meals. And how do you heat it? If you light a fire, you will have to buy a life insurance policy at a fire-hazardous premium. And you don’t own a microwave as yet. And what’s more, it’s passé to light a fire, no one does that anymore. Except for those twittering ladies at a kitty party who add fuel to fire by their gossip rechargeables. People don’t even light ovens anymore. It takes too long to heat up a meal and too much patience. You are fuming-“I am hungry now, not 40 minutes from now”. That’s why God gave us microwave ovens. Just pop in your meal-whrrr-beep- out it comes, nicely warmed for immediate consumption. That’s the way you want your happiness- toasty, warm and right now, this instant.
Consider the Internet- you type out happiness.com-you hit enter. Google responds-the search took 1.02 seconds. Seems rather slow you think-Google is ready for the old age home. You check, you wait. Did you know that Bernard Shaw waited for almost 25 seconds for a website to appear so he could find a phrase that rhymed with “Man and Superman”? The website appeared in 2002,he had given up waiting by then. You don’t want to walk to and wait for happiness. You want it delivered now. The Pizza Hut delivery- man is never late, it’s 20 minutes or the pizza comes free. Happiness should come for free.
Remember the days you had only two channels on TV and ‘door’darshan was the only ‘door’ to entertainment. It was a mammoth task to lift yourself out of the couch to change the channel especially if you knew Chitrahaar was coming on the other channel? But you didn’t get up and continued tolerating Krishi Darshan. In the two- channel universe there was always something on. Now we flip through 100 channels which keeps us busy while we are looking for something worthwhile to appear on our favourite channel. Imagine the fitness levels you would reach if you were to get up 15-20 times per minute to change 100 channels.
Happiness should be like television, if you don’t get instant gratification, you can change channels-zip-zap-zoom.
Your teacher hauls you up for bad marks-zap.
Your mother glares as you pick your sixth pizza slice-zap.
Your father grounds you for partying out late-zap.
Your friend steals your girl friend-zap.
Your boss threatens to report you to the CEO for delaying a project report-zap.
Come on, think how happy you would be- all those annoying two-wheelers that steal your parking space outside your favourite cyber cafe, the unending movie ticket line, the always ‘network busy’ signal on your mobile-zap-zap-zap. Sigh happiness is not like the microwave oven, not like the Internet, not even like the remote control. Happiness does not run on instant gratification system. Happiness takes patience. Oh God, please give me the patience I lack- and I want it now-this instant.
Mita Kapur.

Hurry up and procrastinate

hurry up and procrastinate
#
Mita Kapur
I've been meaning to write this but I kept putting it off. Everybody please rush in for India's Biggest Procrastinator Contest. As an expert in this field, I can be of speedy help-not now, after 10 days.Even if you are not an Indian, you can tell them you've been meaning to immigrate-that could win you bonus points.India's teeming with procastrinators. Some people hold off taking up courses, taking up jobs, others delay household chores. Some put off filing their income-tax returns, washing the car, some even hold off on getting born.(That was me.Sorry mom.)If it wasn't for the last minute, nothing would get done. Dr. Do-it Later explains, "it's a lifestyle choice. A professional procrastinator delays dropping his kid off to school,and walking his dog till the last minute. By then he's busy holding off his regular shave because he has to iron his office suit and he hasn't even picked up the milk and newspaper lying at his doorstep.With so much delay, the last minute never comes."One such fellow procrastinator bought over Rs 25,000 of software in the past two years "to help me open my computer, 80% of it is still unopened." It might help if he started by removing the computer from it's packaging.Another contestant describes how "we go to our Big Shopper bags to find a packet of moong dal or toothpaste because we never put them away." I laughed at that one. I thought it was pretty funny. My mother in law was not amused. she pointed to the large 6 feet tall carton standing silent witness to wilting vegetables on the kitchen island. "Oh that, that's the new 3 door fridge we just bought 3 months back." She then transferred her gaze to the soggy apples, droopy spinach, wrikled tomatoes. "I think it's time you stopped procrastinating and installed the fridge." Sigh , master procrastinators are rarely appreciated.Procrastination has some interesting side effects. You begin to observe and appreciate even the smallest of things happening around you.A professional procrastinator always marvels at how clean the toilet was at the highway petrol pump.A true procrastinator never gets his diwali candles till an hour before the religiously recommended lakshmi pujan time. Unless there some left over from last year's diwali puja.My friend sends her 'tikka' to her brother exactly a month later, atleast it reaches him on the same date, only the month has changed.A skilled procrastinator always reads her mail- but only after the postman reminds her every 15 days to clear her letter box.A determined procaastrinator goes on for several days without emptying her garbage - after a while the whole building gets involved - so much for community cooperation.Even with talented contestants you can win the contest - if you don't try hard enough. I thought of entering the contest myself. I delayed college graduation for several years. I have a dozen books piled up on my table to do book reviews on, the editor has scrapped the book review column for the time being.I was just about to enter the contest when I came with an ingenius way to disqualify myself I finally picked up Da Vinci Code to review, it was first on my to-do list for the last 3 years.With me out of the race, you might just win the contest. You see I know a fatal flaw that makes all the contestants vulnerable. Nobody can legitmately win this year's contest- unless they they enter next year.To make this article a lttle more authentic I attempted to withhold it. But my editor gave me the 'frown'. So I decided to give it in incomplete. Surely that qualifies as procrastination.But wait you can make it true procrastination by not reading any more till next year. Stop reading. If you are still reading you are failing to procrastinate. Stop now. Good. If you are not reading this sentence, congratulations, you are a champion procrastinator.Not everyone can be good at everything. But everyone has a place at the top for something they are good at. Viva la Procrasts,(too long a word-I'll finish it next time), may your tribe sustain and survive!Mita Kapur

A large chunk of women who are housewives, homemakers, mothers, housekeepers have a new name now – home hermit. This incidentally includes those who, apart from fulfilling the above mentioned, also work from home (like yours truly). That further expands the field of hermit-ism.
If this sounds like just the kind of self-inflicted bliss you’ve been itching for, there are a few things you should know before making the big career switch.
A dedicated hermit often skips a shower. Why? Because you plain forgot, swamped with so much home/other business.
To help refresh memory that today is shower day (move over mother’s day, friend’s day), there is a simple clinical procedure.
1. Lift arm.
2. Insert nose.
3. If you faint, stagger into a shower.
4. And if you don’t, you can continue to be queen of procrastination.
So much for saving water, something good always comes out of the stinkiest of (arm) ‘pits’.
We professional hermits also lose touch with our friends.
“Hey, Mita, how have you been? This is Sita.
Sita. Sita who?
Your childhood buddy.
I have a buddy?”
A call from the likes of Sita, the epitome of Indian womanhood can jolt you into reality before you lapse into an unblinking relationship with your computer.
You look blankly at your 3rd born’s ‘homework’ copy, trying to figure out how to explain to him that an apple can be coloured blue, that it’s all about letting your imagination and creativity lose. But the practiced isolation has made you lose out on your speaking skills. It’s a muscle wrenching exercise to pry open your lips to form words. The least you manage at the end of the day when your husband asks for his pyjamas is a “I dunno, I have mine on.” Thank God, you discover for yourself, you can speak and haven’t fallen into the ‘speechless’ trap of monosyllabalic stagnation.
Point is pyjamas become synonymous with your identity. A friend asked on a surprise visit- is it ok to wear pyjamas at high noon or are you committing a fashion faux pas? I feel it’s totally acceptable to wear pyjamas at low noon, high noon, all day long. The only exception is you don’t wear pyjamas at tea time. Pyjamas and tea (British style) don’t mix.
I handle Saturdays with more finesse – indulging in formal dressing. Every Saturday, I shower and get into formal wear. My 3 piece suit includes jeans, t-shirt and white sandals. All this to go drop my son off at my mother’s house and do some grocery shopping on my way back- that is if I remember to shove some money into my frayed pockets. If I work from home, why do I need a purse? To carry it to the washroom? Then I’ll have to make sure it matches with my pyjamas.
I feel so alone- is that normal? There are days when I don’t even talk to myself. Is this solitude a bonus along with the Rs 300 per article that I get from the local newspaper? And the only thing I spend money on is new pyjamas. Did you just hear that newsflash that the pyjamas industry was coming out with a lucrative ‘mutual’ fund scheme?
And if you are wondering why pyjamas and not house gowns, well, pyjamas are more decent, gowns can get transparent and will have the sweeper and the dhobi staring at you, below the waist. In any case, wearing pyjamas at least gives the illusion of who wears the pants in your house.

CELEBRATION

Its the time to disco, its the time to rock, to party and to bid adieu to the old and bring in the new. There is revelry in the air. The charm of a red and white Christmas simply spills over into the festive spirit and frantic activity that comes with the bells tolling before every new year.The tinkle and chime of conversation is abuzz with ‘which party to go to,’ ‘what to wear,’ ‘who will be your date’ ?You are a regular, ordinary, averagely intelligent individual. You may be riding high on glamour, success, oomph and chutzpah. you may be celebrating the coming of 2005 with a champagne flute but what is all this celebration about ? If you love life, you should be savouring it every day. Its time now to pause, think and what celebration could actually mean to you and me and all of us.Celebration is ...when you see dirty, grubby street kids in tattered clothes dancing in the rain, making paper boats, setting them to sail in a flooded street and clapping their hands in glee at the sheer success of the boat making it across the drains merrily.is when a doctor steps out of an operation theatre after a 6 hour long surgery and declares that a life has been saved.is when you helped an old lady with her luggage at the airport and was given a grateful smile.is when you are crying and your pet poodle licks your tears away.is when you are lonely, sitting on the pavement and you see a couple in love pass by, lost in each other’s arms.is when you see an underdog perform and do well.is when you do not remember days, you remember moments.is when the joke is on you and you laugh the loudest at yourself.is when a mother sends her only son to the war front with a brave face.is when a child finds a long lost, broken car and lets out a whoop of joy .is when you see your four year old kid fall, dust her bruised knees and still finish the race.is when you see your 6 year old daughter strut around in your bridal finery and smeared lipstick.is when you read an essay written by a 5 year old wishing how chocolates would flow of her tap instead of bath water.is when you are studying for your exam, late at night and your father walks in with a kitkat, coffee and a kind smile.is when Sushmita and Aishwarya won the coveted Miss Universe and Miss World titles.is when the Indian cricket team scores over the Pakistanis.is when I see the Americans getting scared of our success in the outsourcing industry.
is when you relish a juicy bite into a crunchy apple in the middle of a large crowd of techno savvy geeks.is when your boss trusts you with the new project and gives you total freedom to handle it.is when you complete that project on the deadline and prove it to yourself that you can do it.is when you see a shooting star and wish on it.is when you inhale the smell of the earth after the first rain of the season.is when you count the number of colours on a butterfly’s wings.is when you are stuck in snarling traffic and you see a rainbow smiling, stretched across the concrete flyover.is when you listen to the murmur of running water as if its was Mozart’s symphony.is when you watch the clouds and find shapes of a smiling face, a shoe, a feather in them.is when the sapling you planted sprouts a new leaf.is when naughty, playful waves tease the rocks, dance and swiftly recede.is when a woman speaks her mind and lets the world know she means business.is when you savour a sinful mudcake and not feel guilty about it.is when you measure your waistline and discover you’ve lost 2 inches.is when you are down in the dumps and your mate looks deep into your eyes and says ‘main hoon na’.is when two friends meet and share the sounds of silence.is when you lie on the grass, look up to the sky, take in the immense largeness of the universe and thank God that you exist.

BRAND PARENT

‘Its hard to admit but I am sure all members of this particular ‘brand’ are going to agree openly or secretly within their hearts to this one fact which is very much what we all are. And the fact is that the ‘brand parent’ is as ‘wired’, as ‘wierd’ and as ‘wonderful’ as our offspring. And that we are as challenged, as confused and need as much counselling as our children do.Cut to scene one- universal occurrence in every house- eyes glued to the blue screen, fingers tapping frantically on the keyboard- how much time should we let them spend with the computer? Shift to PIP(picture in picture) view- a human blob bundled on your bed, a pair of beedy eyes sunk into the television(read ‘my favourite rival’)-we fret over how many hours and what to let them watch!Cut to scene two-the pitch and bass of your life is resounding by digital surround sound- is this rock’n’roll or is this shock’ur’soul music? Suddenly you make a historical discovery- you can call the NASA and tell them that there is no life on Mars since its not listed on your teenage daughter’s phone bill!!!You see red when examination blues hit your child.You are informed by a cold stare that she’s studied ‘enough’. A battle within a battle breaks out. The question hour shifts its focus from the child to the father who has no answer(whats new!!) for “what have you done to make sure ‘they’ study for their exams?”So you realise you are being bandied about,burgeoned by revolutions of all kinds. The ‘IT’ revolution hits you-a PC, a mobile phone, a digital camera, a plasma T.V are preferred companions. You are merely incidental and thank GOD for small mercies that atleast you are there somewhere in their lives. Now that you are caught up in the web of their world, you might as well accept those over-sized t-shirts or noodle strapped ones and ‘barely there on the hips jeans’ and I can assure you if you look closely, you’ll find a person inside there somewhere, as enrolled members of the PPR-Peer Pressure Revolution. This revolution consists of huge plans and tall orders- a movie, Pizza Hut, Barista, Planet-M and slowly, painfully, a mobike. The art of negotiation is something they learn at an early age- you would be amazed how many teenagers get their first car by simply asking for a Yamaha. GETZ YOU- huh?The Hamburger revolution over eats into your nerves. Sizes bloat, clothes stretch to their seams and you feel you will see noodles and pizzas growing out of their hair and ears. But you are put into cold storage, its ‘passe’ to even look at good old dal and bhindi. And suddenly you have new creature connections, your kids and their grand-parents get along so well together because they have the same enemy-the Mother. There is this strong feeling of deja vu that our generation never really had a chance. When we were young, they taught us to respect our elders and now that we are older they tell us to listen to the youth. So the role of the ‘Brand parent’ is redefined. From master chef, cleaner, tailor, financier, provider we too have kept up with the ‘times’. We record their messages in our minds like an answering machine. We search for the hidden depth and meanings of the Googles and Yahoos of their lingo and wonder why ‘a family’ is called a ‘support system’ ? In between bouncing back and forth as expert juggler you take on to being a trapeze artist, plunging headlong into their despair and woes and plummeting sky high with their joys and victories. You are an inventer who invents answers with a click of a mouse. An entreprenuer who is constantly taking risks - “to be or not to be” - “to do or not to do” - “to speak or not to speak”. You are an author and you can bid adieu to Aldous Huxley because you’ve just rewritten ‘The Brave New World". ‘Brand parent’ can easily get itself pateneted as a ‘limited company’ and close float parental equity shares, the market is sure to boom. Looking for an escape within your ‘brave new world’ ? Do what I do when my kids become wild and unruly. I use a nice, safe playpen and when they are finished, I climb out. There is only one small relisation - the moment you have children yourself, you forgive your parents for everything! And be comforted my friends - there is no life on Mars !
MITA KAPUR
9829013402
mitakapur@yahoo.co.in