Nidhi Srivastava's Blog, page 15

Shershaah

Tomorrow, we will be celebrating the 75th Independence Day of India. We owe this freedom to our soldiers who have selflessly guarded the borders, day and night. Past midnight the social media would be glowing with patriotic songs. Last month, on 26th July, we have mourned the loss of soldiers on 22nd Kargil Vijay Diwas. There were videos across all platforms talking about the glorious victory India achieved. 527 soldiers were martyred during Kargil War. Someone quoted correctly, it is not about people who leave us, it about the mourning families left behind. More than 500 families faced the wrath of Kargil War. Even today, the stories from war would give you goosebumps.

I read innumerable books on wars and I remember that my first non-fiction book was “Letters from Kargil” written by Diksha Dwivedi, daughter of Major Chandra Bhushan Dwivedi pulled up a brave face and has penned down the war situation for the world to remember it forever. Today, I chose to watch the movie “Shershaah” based on the bravery of Captain Vikram Batra, along the side of other Army jawans. I am at loss of words after watching the movie. All I had was tears in my eyes. A civilian would never understand the sacrifices of a soldier’s family or their lives. But civilians should understand that young guns of India gave up their future for us. Captain Vikram Batra was 25 years old when he sacrificed his life for the country. He was passionate to be a “Fauji”. Shershaah movie would take you back to the Kargil War days and the confidence of soldiers who wanted to beat the enemies. It took years to narrate the story of Kargil war through a soldier’s point of view. I think this is the best performance of Siddharth Malhotra till date. I guess you will become a fan of Captain Vikram Batra, if you aren’t yet after watching the movie. I can’t forget the last scene of this movie, I was choked and my tears wouldn’t stop. How naïve are we? We haven’t spoken about our national heroes much, the TED talk they deserved.

Co-author project: Contest article

I faintly remember the day when we bumped into each other after five long years. I was perplexed when I saw him at the entrance of my office. I wasn’t sure whether I should greet him or not, then, the chirpy bird inside me never paid attention to those conflicted thoughts in my mind. I ended up greeting him.

“Hi Ameya, how are you?” 

“Hi Harshita, I am good. How about you?” 

“I am good too! How come you are here?” 

“I came here for an interview.” 

“What? At this office?” 

“Yes, I had my last round for the interview today” 

“Oh, cool. See you around then” 

After two weeks, I walked into the office only to witness the next big thing of my life. Ameya was sitting in the waiting area with loads of documents strewn around him. I smiled through the glass door when our eyes met and left for my workstation. Later in the afternoon, as I walked out of the office to grab a smoke. I knocked and went into the waiting room and greeted him. 

“Done with the joining formalities?” 

“Yes, I guess!”

“Oh ok! Let’s go down for a smoke.” 

We went downstairs to the Tea shop, where we grabbed our brand of cigarette and tea to that wintry afternoon in Delhi. I met Ameya in our first company back in Hyderabad, who knew that we would cross paths again in life. We were colleagues back then when he always cracked some lame-ass joke on me, and the others laughed around. Kudos to my memory that I still remember the hottie, he dated back then. I knew whose name shouldn’t be brought around in our conversation, now that we have met again in life. Breaking the silence, I spoke to him about his previous organization and the work here. 

Right after that day, we went for rounds and rounds of a smoke break at work, and then sometimes we went to the bar together. He dropped me home safely every night. I reminded myself that maybe he is the first guy ever who hasn’t made a move yet on me. “Of course, I am not that hot as his previous one”, that was the reaction of conscience always. Then came a Saturday night, when I was just about to doze off…. And I received a text from Ameya.

“Where are you?” 

“Home”

“Do you want to drink?”

“Depends! If I have to go out, I won’t be drinking at all!” 

“Well, I will bring beer, fine?”

“Yes, I will send you the location.”

He knocked at my door at 10.10 PM. We opened the beer cans and cheered for the fucked-up office life of ours. We had the night to ourselves with beer cans and a Marlboro pack. The conversation ranged from our life in Hyderabad, his relationships, my relationships, and his concerns. 

“Do you know Akriti?” – he asked 

“Yes, why?”

“Well, I believe she has spread across some rumors about me in her current organization”

“So? How does it matter?” 

“Well, it does matter.” 

“You were dating someone in Hyderabad if I am not wrong. See, I didn’t pay attention that much to it. But, I believe it might be because of that Akriti might have judged you.”

I was tipsy with the smoke and alcohol of course. I leaned on him, hugged him, and told him, “It doesn’t matter what people think about you” and we drifted apart, while my face was still near his lips. I couldn’t resist him, without fighting much, I kissed him. He didn’t stop either, rolled his tongue in my mouth… our breath smeared in alcohol. I opened my eyes, only to find him embarrassed. I released him from my embrace, and he sat down holding my hand. 

“We shouldn’t be doing this”

“Why?”

“You are a very nice person”

I laughed and mellowed down the light setup in the room. I held him and we broke into a kiss again. A drunk thought ran into my mind and asked him, “Are you dating anyone now?”

“No” 

I continued to kiss him, leaning against the wall… while his palm continued to protect my head against the wall. “Then, date me!” 

Dignity at stake

I never had high hopes from an arranged marriage. I have friends who found the love of their life, and they believed that I would eventually find love. Every day I inch closer to an arranged marriage set-up, and it hampers my peace of mind. Of course, it also hampers the dignity of my parents.

”Once you lose a love battle, you always hate the word love”

Since the lockdown hit us, everyone was home, and I have been working from home. Every day I look at my father writing down contacts, calling unknown numbers, posting my pictures in Matrimonial groups, and what not. My mother keeps telling me that she suffered from a cataract as she kept looking at the phone screen, searching for my prospective husband. We joke about it, we laugh about it, but deep inside my soul – I just want everything to stop right now.

I don’t want some greedy people asking my father, ”what is your budget for marriage?” (They meant was under-the-table dowry)
I don’t want people to remind me, ”I am short height, or I have a wheatish complexion?” (their son wasn’t fair either)

I would like to narrate an incident here. I suffered from an accident a few months back. In the meanwhile, my parents shortlisted a potential groom through some matrimonial site. I was informed to have a conversation with the guy’s mother on a video call. I wasn’t comfortable having a video call. My father told their family about it. Still, the guy’s mother pushed me to have a video call. (I wanted to disconnect the call right there when she kept joking about my height)

When I told my parents about it, they were angry about her behavior. But, no one said anything (it was about a potential proposal).

There was another time when the same guy’s mother told my parents she would be asking the guy to have a conversation with me. That never happened. Again, one day she insisted to have a video call, and that day I lied about my phone being broken. I wasn’t comfortable going on a call with her, where she would judge me for wearing specs, or a t-shirt or even wearing a bit of lipstick for that matter of fact.

When the final day came of meeting the family, I was hesitant as I wasn’t able to walk confidently post-accident. At the hotel, I met the guy and had a conversation of around 1 hour. I was hoping to understand this prospect better, but all we talked about was the weather in Bangalore, traffic in Bangalore, and some hobbies. In the end, the bill came up for dining around 4 hours. No points for guessing who paid the whopping bill (of course my father).

Days passed and we were hoping to have an answer. After 4 days, when my father called that guy’s father – there was eventually no show. He returned to my father’s call at 10:30 PM, beating around the bush. He replied that there is no positive feedback.

Well, I am not sure if I was a client presentation that was awaiting feedback. I am not sure how did that guy judge me based on the questions he asked. I am pretty sure, I failed their height calculation (the guy was 6 feet and I am 5’3). Is my father’s money water? Do we have to go around paying bills for people who are judgmental towards working women? Did anyone ask me how I feel being rejected now and then? Did anyone ask me about my career goals? Did anyone care to see the helplessness on my parent’s faces?

I don’t want to get married at the stake of my parents or my dignity. I am not sure when this trauma will be washed out of my brain.

Smashed patriarchy.

Back in 2012, my parents brought a place ahead of my father’s approaching retirement. It was a close-knit function, where some relatives showed up. I never lived in that house, as I was working in Hyderabad back then. I spent our first Diwali after ages in that house. Later in a year, we sold the place for some safety concerns.

Ever since that day, I had a thought lingering in my head. I wanted to earn a living, but more importantly, I wanted to buy a place for my parents. It was a dream that I was desperate about. One way or the other, I kept landing at a stressful job. In 2019, I made the decision to leave Noida and head back to Bengaluru. I knew that place is all the positivity I needed in my life.

Everyone in my circle knows my love for Bengaluru is never-ending. It is the city that has given hope to my dreams. My office reopened when COVID cases subsided and we joined back. I met with an accident after 15 days of returning to work. Life hasn’t been great after that accident. My family was worried if I would be able to walk again or not. I don’t know whether I should be glad, I met with that and headed home again this year.

In March 2021, we started having thoughts about the house. With my promotion at work, I thought I would be able to pull this up. My sister who is younger than me has been the guiding force to motivate my parents. The paperwork, verification, sanctions have been hectic as well as nerve-wracking. I am glad my cousin brothers stood by us, even when we lost hope. We have been through enough over years and even these months. Finally, we got our house registered and received keys to the flat. I am grateful that in this life, I was able to fulfill a dream of buying a house. On that note, we have also smashed patriarchy.

Friendship Day

Do you know who is a friend? A friend who is jealous when you are happy in your relationship. Well, definitely that person is not your friend.

I have walked through different phases of life and I had many friends. Eventually, I understood who is actually a friend. I remember all of my friends birthdays and even my ex-boyfriend’s birthday. Yes, at some point of my life I considered him as a friend. Maybe whatever he did to me, wasn’t something I could forget, but it is a thing in the past. I don’t want to go back to my college days, as it brings bitter memories.

Have you ever been afraid of your friends, that they would break your relationship? I have. I feared every second being left out by my friends and my college sweetheart. I didn’t realize back then I was too naïve. But as time passed I realized how utterly foolish I was. I stopped believing in love and friendship. Predominantly I hated the feeling of being in love. (That defines why I am still single at 30).

Back in 2011, my boyfriend was taking coaching classes to crack MBA. Every afternoon, I knew he was out for his classes. I never bothered him during his classes. I really thought he was studying and wouldn’t meet me after classes because of his seriousness towards studies. We drifted apart as time passed. I got busy with my studies, as it was only resort I had back in those days. I wanted to trust my friends, with whom I lived. But it was all hushed talks behind my back or even when I was in sleep. I didn’t understand what was happening. So, one fine day, she told me that my boyfriend met her in a book café (my favorite one) and he told her “he is not happy with me”, “he doesn’t want to kiss me”, “I am not even his type” “he wanted her, my friend” Yes, you read correct. He wanted to be with her. Well, I was shocked that she was telling me all these things that my boyfriend disclosed. I felt betrayed. I was stabbed. I couldn’t stand whatever happened that day. Later when I made some friends at work, I realized the actual definition of friendship. My work friends taught me to fight for myself, they helped me earning beyond my peanuts as a salary. I survived even in low salary, as they helped me bag assignments that fetched me some extra cash. My friends fought to work with me, they planned along to take me out for my first Goa trip. I realized… yes, that’s what friendship is. You fight for them, you fight with them but at the end of the road, you are together with each other. My college life flashed at times and I question – “was she my friend who listened whatever that guy said?” “Why did she make a show of my life, even when she knew this information would break me down”. Many of our friends knew what brand new information my boyfriend disclosed in front of that friend. I felt bad for whatever happened, but then we moved along and spent another year of college being friends. I even went to that girl’s engagement and wedding. We wish each other on birthdays and share Instagram pictures. Later during my corporate work life, I got friends and so many along the road that I forgot about my college friends. I know the whereabouts of my college friends, most of them are married now, and even have kids. Well, I am happy for all of them. I love some of them very much even when I don’t talk much. But, when it comes down to trusting with my life, I do trust a few. I love them and often fight with them. Yes, growing old everyone has their own opinions. Nevertheless, I love my friends who have stood by me, even during my worst phases of life. I wish everyone had that liberty to remember their college friends for good days, and not for the worst ones. My friends today are like my family and even after some 30 years, I am single and want to spend a quiet night with them.. I know they will take that trip with me.

Bang! Bang! She shot him down

“I will be the Osama Bin Laden in your life, crashing the World Trade Center of your fantasy world.” – text delivered

1400 hours, 18 May 2012- text received

“What??? Is it some kind of line from his favorite movie that I missed? Ok, wait… did I call him today morning ???” She started murmuring to herself. (Did I send him a good morning text, let me check.. furiously checking the inbox of her phone)

Ok, I sent him a “Good morning”, he replied. Then, I left for the craft class and we had no conversation after that.

1415 hours, 18 May 2012

“Hey baby, nice lines. Where did you hear this line?” – texted sent

1420 hours, 18 May 2012

“Ok, so you didn’t get it. I thought so you won’t get it. Get these words every straight now, I am no longer interested in carrying a satellite over my head for life long.” – he sent a text angrily

1430 hours, 18 May 2012

“Satellite, acha…!!! So, I can guess what you are trying to say, but you know we will be a happy family. I am learning cooking and stitching, after the craft class. But, I never told you cz I wanted to surprise you. I have started stitching handkerchief with your initials. Remember, the watch you liked at the showroom I am saving to purchase that for your birthday” -she clicked the sent button, tearing rolling down her cheeks.

1530 hours, 18 May 2012

“Yaar, you are so dumb. Ok, let me say it aloud for you. I am breaking up with you. I can’t take this relation to any further level. I am done with hanging around to a relation where I have to stop talking to people coz I am dating you. I am tired of running by to the recharge shop, for the message packs and night rate cards. I don’t want to be rude. But, you need to step out of the fantasy world of yours.” – he sent the reply to her text

1532 hours, 18 May 2012

“Ok, so you want to break up. We call it off just like that. Well, I knew this would anyways happen. Dude, take care… I ll miss you and… I would still love you with every piece of my heart” – she called and choked up.

1800 hours, 18 May 2016

“Hi! Kritika. How are you? Long time.. what are you doing here?”

Yes, this was Rajat who accidentally bumped into Kritika, the same girl he broke up 6 years back. She had lost weight, her hair brushed her cheeks… (wait a minute… her hair, it grew so longer), manicure nails, kohled eyes… Oh! my god… what the hell is she wearing!!! I haven’t seen her look this sexy ever, shorts and crop top…. (ya, that’s what they call it, it’s not short top anymore). The description running in his mind, as his eyes ran from top to bottom… scanning every single detail of the girl he left long back.

“Oh! hello… Rajat. I am awesome as I look (she winked). I am here for…. dude, what do people do in Goa!!!” Kritika answered with a big, cheerful smile on her face.

“Oops! ya, I forgot. So, you are on your honeymoon.” Rajat asked curiously (his heart sank as he asked this question, waiting for the answer to be No. She is looking so damn hot, why the hell did I leave her… wild thoughts running in the mind)

“Well, no Rajat. I am holidaying here with my man.” Kritika replied pointing it out towards a handsome guy, relaxing with a beer in hand waving back at her.

Oh! Wtf.. well built body, aviators, killer smile… He was everything a girl could yearn for. Rajat felt sick deep down his gut, at the site of guy.

“Hellooo… Rajat, where are you lost? Come let me introduce you to him” Kritika dragged Rajat to “her man”

“Hi baby! what took you so long? (they kissed) Who is this gentleman?” Vivian asked Kritika, holding her hand brushing her hair

“He is Rajat, remember!” Kritika answered him with a strange look

Rajat and Vivian greeted each other

“Oh! you know what man… I need to thank you for you gave me a reason to love my life. You know what I m gone for months and the only reason that keeps me going is this lady with a cheerful smile on her face. I don’t see her for months or sometimes I am unable to call her, she is never furious. I know she has a lot of complaints though, but it’s a vacation and I make up for that. She is the lady of my dreams, my parents love her, my friends adore her. Though, she still doesn’t trust me with girls” Vivian laughs out completing the last sentence and hugs Kritika.

A heart broken Rajat listened quietly to Vivian, drinking his beer that was warm by now. .

The conversation went on where most of the time Vivian was busy praising his girl and Kritika was smiling back… and Rajat sat there with a smile planted on his face, avoiding eye contact with Kritika.

“Babe, can we leave now… we have to head for Anjuna for Joshua’s party” Vivian picking up his car keys asked Kritika

“Ya sure, baby. You head to the car, I will just see him off and come in a while” Kritika answered him, as he left … it was time for an awkward conversation

“Kritika, I never thought we would land here in this situation. I am sorry for whatever happened between us. I never thought I would miss you. Vivian is a nice guy. I apologize for whatever happened. I never thought…”

Disrupting the conversation in between

“Ya.. you never thought, I would turn out to be so hot” she laughed (he thought ya that was true)

“You know what Rajat thank you for doing that. I don’t cling to the fantasy world anymore as he never leaves me in imagination. When he is not here with me, I don’t really build up situations for us. Cz I know, when we would be together it would be different and the best feeling in this world. So, thank you for making me strong and it was nice meeting you. Take care, I can’t make him wait any longer” Kritika hugged Rajat and rushed to the car

Rajat stood there for a while… walking towards the sea… Sitting all by himself realizing whatever just happened. Well, things from past… it hurt her once and this incident shot him at the right place. An arrow he aimed at her, hurt him years later.

Book review- Letters from Kargil: The Kargil War Through Our Soldiers’ Eyes

nidhantrika

Book: Letters from Kargil: The Kargil War Through Our Soldiers’ Eyes

Author: Diksha Dwivedi

ISBN: 9789386228437

Publisher: Juggernaut Books

Pages: 168

Binding: Paperback

Publication: 15 August 2017

Plot:

I would say this title doesn’t need any introduction; the world knows and remembers the Indo-Pak Kargil War 1999. It is a non-fiction plot which has been dedicated to a father by his daughter. The author has describes the war situation in the valley, through every soldiers’ eyes. Losing her father at a tender age she was terrified to see him during his last riots, and termed this book as a tribute to him and the fellow soldiers’ who fought the War of 1999. These letters take you back to that time, when Pakistan invaded India violating the LoC regulations. It was the winter when Pakis violated the LoC regulation and invaded India building secret bases all across the border in Mushkoh…

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Book Review: Sach Kahun Toh: An Autobiography

Book Title: Sach Kahun Toh: An Autobiography

Author: Neena Gupta

Publisher: Penguin eBury Press

Format: Kindle

Pages: 296

Blurb: In Sach Kahun Toh, actor Neena Gupta chronicles her extraordinary personal and professional journey-from her childhood days in Delhi’s Karol Bagh, through her time at the National School of Drama, to moving to Bombay in the 1980s and dealing with the struggles to find work. It details the big milestones in her life, her unconventional pregnancy and single parenthood, and a successful second innings in Bollywood. A candid, self-deprecating portrait of the person behind the persona, it talks about her life’s many choices, battling stereotypes, then and now, and how she may not be as unconventional as people think her to be.

My Rating: 4.5/5

Review: I must admit that reading this autobiography has been on my TBR. I failed to procure a first-hand copy of this book. When Bahrisons Booksellers released an Instagram post showcasing autographed copy of this book, I was excited. But, I was late to the party and missed procuring an author-signed copy of this book. I finished reading this book yesterday night. I have been a fan of Neena Gupta, right from the movie Badhaai Ho. I have loved her in the Amazon series – Panchayat, along the side of Raghubir Yadav and Jitendra Kumar (aka Jeetu). Coming back to this book, it is one of the honest ways an actor could have communicated their life story to the world.

At the beginning of the book, the author narrated stories from her childhood. She mentioned in the middle of one chapter – “I know there’s a part of you that only picked up this book to read about my relationships and the controversies that have been part of my media image for decades now.” She has defined her roots in the book ranging from her early marriage to her family details. The book seems an actual narration from the actress, and she had her struggles everywhere. I remember she was a face in the television industry, but I had no idea she was a hottie in the film industry back those days. It was phenomenal how Neena Ji has described her friends in the industry who helped her during pregnancy. If you aren’t her fan to date, you will be a fan after reading this book. Throughout the whole book, she has not bad-mouthed anyone ranging from the press, editors, co-workers, or even family. She has been generous to everyone in her autobiography. The most heartbreaking part of the book was where Masaba’s birth certificate was out in the press. Everyone must be treated as a human being first, irrespective of their profession. Do you think the press had any right to publish Masaba’s birth certificate? So, what if she is the daughter of Vivian Richards? The book is the answer to many questions people had about Neena Gupta. No one’s family is perfect and it takes a lot of courage to come out in public about it. Yes, Neena Gupta is a phenomenal actress and she is breaking all stereotypes at this age.

Some people are lucky that they find what they want to do at a
young age. But I sincerely feel that no matter how old you are, or how old you think you are, it is never too late to start.

Neena Gupta

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Image courtesy: Amazon

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The place where I finished writing my novel

I worked in a market research firm back in early 2019. I had issues with the organization, where they lacked a logical approach towards the work solutions. They did not want to promote or appraise new employees who had a better approach towards work. I think they are dumb to have worked for five years and still think they are a start-up. Never in my life, I saw a company where they asked me to resign if I wanted to take a leave for some personal work. I resigned to save my dignity, and it wasn’t an impulsive decision. I wasn’t happily working in that company, nor that city pleased my mind.

That’s the view from my balcony

I went home in Sep 2019 with a heavy heart. I did not disclose my work situation at home, but everyone was puzzled to see me without a laptop. All my corporate career, I carried my laptop everywhere whether I was worked or wrote random stuff leisurely. I wished to find a job before heading to Delhi. It was next to impossible to find a job at such short notice. I was ready to take that risk in my life where I wandered jobless for a while.

Homebound flight

In Oct 2019, I returned to a place where I had lost my job and mental peace. I was still working on the manuscript, which was on the verge of completion. We were so close to the finish of the book. I was unable to concentrate in the crazy weather of Delhi. I decided to head to the mountains and take another leap of faith.

Prayed here for a better job and life of course – Jamshedpur

I took a bus from Majnu ka Tilla to Mcleodganj when India was prepping to celebrate Diwali. I woke up to the beautiful landscape of Himachal. It was one of the best moments of my life when I got down at the bus stop and headed to my hostel. I explored the path to my hostel on foot from Morgan’s place. As I walked through the woods early in the morning, I felt a sense of freedom. I reached my hostel after a good 10 minutes walk, and the view was mesmerizing. I had never stayed in a hostel, and I was looking forward to my experience here. I freshened up and went to the café upstairs to grab a bite. The set-up was apt to write my pending chapters. Words don’t do justice to some places. I headed out during the afternoon to one of the famous cafes. It was a dream to visit the place and click some pictures for the Gram. But when I reached the café, all I did was stare at the view of magnificent Dhauladhars and scribbled the last chapter of my book. I owe one to the place, which brought emotions back into my life. I am glad I was unemployed at that point. I did cut myself some slack and enjoy my company during that solo trip. To date, it is one of those trips where I don’t have a single picture of myself.

Himachal Pradesh Cricket Association StadiumView on my way towards Bunker’s First view of Bunker’s HostelRoom viewJust for the GramMorgan’s PlaceGyato MonasteryIlliterati cafe

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All That Matters

Sometime in Aug 2019, I started working on my first co-author project. It was a part of a contest that consisted of two rounds of evaluation on writing skills. I never doubted my writing skills, though I knew that there would be many writers who ace the show. I was going through a difficult phase of life personally as well as professionally. I was unable to write a single page for the first round. I used to return home, worked up, having multiple chores running in my head. In Delhi, it was unbearably still summers, and it was hard to focus on writing after cooking. I tried some nights and failed. Or rather, I must say my sleep won over my writing. I had the worst boss who would make sure my day was terrible in my nightmare. One fine day, I came home early prepared a power-packed dinner for myself. I challenged myself to finish writing for the contest and then treat myself. I was sure my friends hated me for canceling on them, but I lacked focus. I read and re-read some of my earlier work. I thought to run through my notes, and bingo, I cracked a perfect romantic story. I headed out for ice cream, and when I returned home, I submitted the work for the contest. It felt like an accomplishment. Yet in the morning, I was feeling miserable when I read that crap. We had to wait for the results, and a week later, 36 entries were selected. Oh! my eyes, I was one of them. There was another prompt given to us, and there was another deadline. I was confident that I wouldn’t make it to the top list. My negative instincts or maybe reverse psychology. My personal life was giving me terrible heartaches. I was losing focus. But, I told myself that I had this one chance to live my dream. I opened my laptop on the last day of submission and started writing a story about my ex-boyfriend. The prompt was a break-up between two lovers, and of course, I had first-hand experience with this scenario. Even if I didn’t make it to the list, I wouldn’t regret it. Days passed, and one evening, the results were declared. Six writers had made it to the co-author program by the publication. I wasn’t expecting my name, but that Instagram post made me the happiest person. That was a journey, I started as a writer. I am not sure, my book has been a success or a failure. But I think it took me closer to my dream of becoming a writer.

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