Choices and clothes

Mondays are horrible. Everyone knows that. You need to get up in the morning and go to work, or college, or school or wherever. But you can't stay home. Then there is societal pressure to look a certain way (although people have begun to 'break' these norms every now and then, but mostly yes, people tend to follow). You're supposed to dress a certain way, one way for office, another for school et al. And then there is this constant pressure for you to look good, as per your definitions at least.

And that is where you get close to losing your mind, at times. You see, sometimes permutations and combinations are bad! Really really bad! And knowing about how many permutations and combinations can be made out of the things only makes it all the more worse for you.

Now here is what happened to me one fine Monday. It was a good day, I got up on time, exercised a good one hour, did some meditation, had breakfast on time. It was all good, until I went to dress up for office. I had decided on this combination to wear on Sunday night (yes, I sometimes do that) so that I wouldn't have to go through all the confusion the next day. But well, no one knows what the future holds in store for you.

I drew out the clothes I was to wear, long blue kurta-kinda top and black tights. I tried it on and then suddenly realized, maybe, just maybe this is a bit too casual for office, on a Monday. I took at least two-three good looks at myself in the mirror but was not convinced. This did not match my 'office personality'. Maybe something a little more conservative. Now I already had a black camisole on, so I thought, why not put on something that works with it, that way I would have one less piece of clothing to change. So off goes the blue top and on goes the formal purple top (slightly balloon-kinda), with a smart and short black skirt. Smart, yes, working for today? No. Unfortunately, the purple top was way too crumpled, so either I would have to iron it, or, change.

With only 10 minutes to spare, changing seemed like a better idea. So I go foraging for something that matches with the black skirt but isn't too formal (my office is mostly semi-formal on the most formal day so wearing a crisp white shirt seemed like overdressing). One top out, and second and third and I find a maroon top. Try it on, looks good. But not with the black skirt. Was a bit too long. On second thoughts, the skirt didn't look so impressive after all. Maybe switch the skirt for trousers which will go with this top.

So now I go searching for trousers in my deeper than dungeon cupboard. And I come across this smart new super expensive khaki trousers that I had bought a few weeks ago. A pair of trousers that were looser than they were supposed to be, but were the kind that made you want to live in them. But ya, they didn't look the best. And the maroon top didn't go with them either. I mean, the colour combination was just fine, but the make didn't match.

So what happens next? You guessed it. Off with the maroon top! (Might as well have been 'off with my head', I did feel like I was losing it by then)

In the god forsaken cupboard I find a blue top I'd been wanting to wear for a long time. So I try it on with the 'new' trouser I was wearing. Nope, didn't match. Took out 2-3 more tops to see if they would go with the trouser. None did.

The khaki trousers were too loose for all of them. Didn't match with anything. And by then, I was late. On a day when I had a good half hour just to get ready, I was late! I could have gotten ready three times by then on an ordinary day, but today was not one of those days.

I finally decided to go with the blue top. I had to wear it some day! And for the last time, went searching in the stupid cupboard for the umpteenth time. Found my old favourite pair of black trousers that go with everything and really well at that.

Try them on, and it's like magic. The blue top and these trousers get along as well as wine and cheese...or something that goes really well with each other.

Of course I'm about 10 mins late by then, and still haven't decided what earrings to wear... And here I was, all happy and jumpy that today was starting as the perfect day to a perfect week.

The day I lost my beautiful gold chain

This has never happened to me before this one time and it still amazes me.

Remember when you were a little kid and had that favourite pencil box which you loved to death. The watch that you had yearned for, all your life (whatever little life you had lived till then) and guarded with your life. The pen you gave to no one, the watch you had shown everyone with pride.

When we got bigger, things grew more expensive. A mobile. Pair of gold earrings. An even more expensive watch.   A gold chain...

This is the story of my gold chain. This chain had special significance in my life. It was not just any chain. It was given to me by my father, on graduation. It was a symbol of his pride and elation. It was a symbol of my achievement, my self-worth. It was a memory of how happy I had made my family. And it was just what I had wanted, for all these years. It was slightly thicker than a thread, was twisty and had the most beautiful pendant with three diamonds studded in the form of a clover leaf. It was the most beautiful thing. And I never removed it. Ever. It was too precious. It meant too much.

And I lost it. Through my sheer and utter negligence. Because of my own nonchalance.  Because of my haughtiness. Because of my ignorance.

I had removed it when I'd gone to the beauty parlor...and here's the beauty (pun intended) of the whole thing, I put it in the outer pocket of my bag, which had a hole in it, which I knew about. Anyway, I came home, dumped the bag in the foyer and forgot all about it.

The next day, the cleaning lady came early in the morning, swept the floor (including the foyer) and left. The cook came, finished her work and went past the foyer, and left. The milkman came, the newspaper guy came, and then, I woke up. Got ready for office. And realized, I forgot to take my chain out. From the bag. With the hole. In the foyer. Where everyone went past.

And I emptied the bag, twice, thrice and then once more. No chain. Gone. Just like that.

It was gone. And no matter how hard I racked my brains, I could not think of any other place that I could have left it. I had lost the most beautiful gift I had ever had. And I had no one to blame either, but myself.

With tears in my eyes, I told my father. He tried to brush it off but I could see the pain in his eyes too.

But I didn't want to give up. Not just yet. I decided I'd search the house, all over again. Papa joined me in the search and we looked around, turned the house upside down. No chain. All was lost.

The last idea that hit me was to go check in the lift. Not the brightest idea, but the only one I had. And I dashed out of the house with such a force that for a second, I frightened myself. Frightened of the disappointment that would ensue, if I did not find it there.

Papa offered to come out too. We both left our flat and decided to look some more. In fact, he had already started looking at teeny tiny inches outside our door which I thought irrelevant.

And he found it! HE FOUND IT! The chain, slightly thicker than a thread, twirled up, with the pendant shaped like a clover leaf.

I cried then. Never let him see it. But I cried. It felt like life had been restored back to normal. It felt like everything in this world was good again. It felt like there is still hope in this world.

It felt like seeing a thousand butterflies fleeting around me.

The problem with stand up comedy acts

Today I was watching this 'Just for Laughs' episode which brings in shows of various stand-up comedians and it suddenly hit me. How does this whole thing work? I mean, I know how it works...(duh!). But what is it like? It's another thing to go watch a movie....be it a thriller or what not, you don't exactly know what to expect. But with stand up acts. You do. Exactly.

You are going there to laugh. Worse, you are prepared to laugh. No really! You go in with the idea of going someplace, and laughing. Then it makes me wonder, isn't laughter supposed to be...I don't know...spontaneous? In this case, you've lost the spontaneity for sure. Is it even really funny any longer?

Has our life grown so lack luster that we are forced to go watch a show to laugh? Something somewhere seems to have gone terribly wrong. If you think back and try to figure out how it all started...the stand up comedy acts that is...I'd say it was the court jester who started it all. But the very same question comes to haunt you.

Why aren't people generally happy? Why do they have to go borrow a few moments of happiness in their entire life? Would it be easier to live in a utopian world where everyone is happy, everyone is good?

Or is it that there is no such thing as too much happiness? Too much fun? Which is why, stand up comedians will always be in business.