A Fresh Start Beckoning...

The scars had to be hidden,

To start anew.

Niggling fears were swept under the rug

Some were old and some born new.  

"Be bold, be brave!"

Is that what they told you?

When you were breaking apart?

How many ‘wise’ people

Actually stood by you,

And helped you make a clean start?

“I’m fine!”

“Let’s shrug it off…”

“I’ll manage. I don’t need anyone.”

Half-hearted words kept you afloat

Even if, they escaped from an insincere tongue

From a heart that was constantly yearning for love.

Not a soul cared for your struggles and strife.

You put on the cloak of indifference,

And cynicism helped you survive.

Smiling through despair

You laughed in the face of ill-fate.

And numbed every nerve, every fiber

That screamed against agony after agony.

Weathered and beaten,

You fervently wish you could get even,

With the world that caused you hurt. 

When you’re efforts aren’t rewarded

And your dreams are thwarted,

Don’t forget your true worth!

As one year rolls into another,

And the sun peeks out of the clouds yet again,

A ray of hope will penetrate through the sadness.

Pick up the pieces of an unknown tomorrow

Rebuild your castle of shattered dreams

Surround yourself with friends who’ll embrace your madness!

Don’t hide away from an onslaught of grief,

You can only let go, when you finally give in

It’s perfectly okay to weep!

Life’s long esplanade has rendered you tired.

You’ve been battling too long,

For every little thing you desired.

When you’re penning your own fantastic story

Instead of wistful woes and failed ventures,

Your journal should speak of tangy tales and heart-warming adventures.

Take the plunge, because that’s your best bet!

You've got to do, what you've got to do. 

Would you ride in a caravan of cherished memories

Or accumulate boxes full of regret?  

To Forgive and To Forget- A different perspective!

Yes; It is very much a noble endeavor. Forgiveness is cited to be a healing act; that transforms our perspective on life and the negativity associated with it. A lot of people lament though, that it is not always practical to forgive and forget; sometimes the extent of the hurt and damage done to us is so severe that it becomes impossible to be kind and forgiving. So what you have is a person who either learns the beautiful art of 'Forgiving and Forgetting" or a person who refuses to buy the concept behind the phrase!

My take on the subject is slightly divergent- Firstly, I as an individual do not "Forgive and Forget". My exceptions are God, my parents and my extended family, whose unconditional love has often rescued me from the dark corners of life. But, for the others, who have not had any significant contribution in my life, apart from wrecking it, I do not wish to be a person who forgives and forgets! Tut-tut! What a negative approach to life, you may wonder! But honestly, it isn't!

I've read in so many places, that people like me are bitter, resentful and are revengeful towards those who have wronged us; we live in the miseries of the past and wallow in a sense of grief and regret. I frankly don't agree with this assumption. I am not in the least bitter about my past experiences with people who did not deserve my time and friendship. In fact, I am grateful to them- because if it weren't for them; I may not have realized the difference between the genuinely Good and the irrevocably Bad. I would not have realized the importance of the values that my parents have instilled in me, and I would have never come out of the reverie that 'If am good I am inevitably going to be a recipient of goodness'. It is exactly this revelation, that convinces me that to forgive and to forget is not the best thing to do.

I, in fact believe that it is not our right to forgive in the first place. We as mortals, are prone to making mistakes, hurting people, intentionally or unintentionally; I may have done so myself! Therefore, I lose the very right to forgive anyone. Some forgiveness may be in order for me, who knows!?  Having said that, I don't believe that we deserve all the wrong that has been done to us! Some of it can be chalked down to Karma, but most of it is the inevitable play of life, which brings us in contact with the desirable and the undesirable elements.

Another aspect to the subject of forgiveness is that, If I forgive the person I also let them off for taking undue advantage of my friendship and defiling the trust that I had placed in them. When a person deceives you like that, you can never build back that trust again; you can never bridge the gulf that would've opened up between you, because the fundamental basis of any relationship is trust! So even if I tell myself to forgive them, we will never share the same bond; the friendship would've lost the anchor of trust... So, forgive a person to the extent, that you are rid of any negative or harmful vibes; consider him to be a misguided individual- who in time will bear the brunt of his mistakes the hard way! But never.. never FORGET what this person has done to you..Your interaction with this person, has brought you closer to the realities of life- you have faced humiliation due to him- you have felt the indignity of being shunned out! If you forget, you also forget the times that you were faced with ignominy, and that makes you vulnerable and less alert in the future. If you keep the memories alive with you, never again will you let a person come even an inch close to harming you... You will have fortified yourself.. This does not mean however, that you will cease to make mistakes, that you will cease to have bad experiences with people... But you will have gained an intuition, a sixth sense, which would help you get a whiff of malicious intent in people. On the other hand, it will also help you cultivate a great, sincere friendship with individuals who truly value your presence in their lives.

So if I do not forgive and forget, it doesn't mean I am full of hatred and ill regard for those temporary negative influences who have come and gone by! Rather, I have detached myself from them completely.. I don't ponder on the lives of such people, I don't brood when I see them happy, I don't wish them ill, because I am fully aware that bad deeds have a curious way of creeping up on you and taking you unawares! God will make them pay in His own way. I don't have to bother my head about them... Because I have a life, full of activity, full of surprises, full of worthy people who have filled it with meaning.. I have learned to count my blessings and smile through it all! So you see, there is no negativity attached to this approach at all! 

My friend asked me a pretty good question when she heard my views on the subject- "So if a person is truly repentant, and wants to make amends, would you not forgive him?"
My answer to that is, we have exceptions in every case. Once you have trained your sixth sense to distinguish between genuine and shallow people, you can use your discretion to judge whether the person deserves your trust and love.. If he does, I don't see why you shouldn't give him a second chance! There are chances, that he goes back to his selfish ways and gives you a hard time, but you must remember that now you are a wiser and stronger person..You can deal with anything that is thrown at you! Never, compromise on your self worth though! No one has the right to make you feel like crap!

Always remember, "In my life, I call the shots!! My life, My rules!!" :)

Life In a Metro- Story 1- 'Tear' ing through!

Hi all! As promised, I'm back with my very first story for the column. Its the oldest metro story I can recall, and believe me it still moves me to tears! Tears of laughter, of course. Nothing to sob about here! Its a pretty funny one.. So let me get on with my narration.

I remember clearly I was in school at the time of the incident- It was one of those days when my school van turned up late, and I decided to take the metro instead. Initially when you're new to things, you take quite some time to learn the ropes. Back then, I was still awkward with metro rides- getting to the right platform, stepping into the right train- all that i was still rusty with!

I was traveling alone and it was going to be a long ride from Race Course ( nearest to school) to Guru Dronacharya metro station (nearest to home). But as soon as I stepped into the pleasant air conditioned compartment of the metro, I was filled with relief! EMPTY seats! Well, almost.. At least, I got a corner to myself- the thought of carrying my heavy schoolbag on my back 'standing' was hardly attractive.

Soon, our metro glided out of race course and made its way towards Gurgaon. I remember spending the first ten minutes of the metro ride in bliss!  I  was still marveling at my luck and was thankful for the corner seat that I had bagged, when the discomfort started.

Before setting off for school that day, I had decided to slip on my contact lenses. It was pretty adventurous of me actually- it was the first time I had worn them to school. Being heavily myopic, I'm dependent on my nerdy spectacles for good measure, and there were and still are times when I get bored of the nerdy look, and hate what spectacles can do to my face! So, on that particular day I decided to wear my contacts and flaunt my eyes a bit. ( Who says we went to school only to study? There were no male attention seeking tactics behind this act though, if your mind is running in that direction! I went to a Convent school) Little did I know then, that looking good comes with a price tag- and guess what- I paid with my tears!

Suddenly, I had this annoying scratchy sensation in my eyes. I blinked my eyes twice, but the sensation persisted. My vision was getting affected too- I looked around and saw the few ladies in the compartment, in their blurred form. I didn't panic, because this had happened to me before- sometimes while wearing lenses my eyes would get dry. But the catch was, that after a while the sensation would go! Here, the idiotic scratchy feeling would just not leave me. I had this mad urge to drown my eyes in water, when God heard my prayers and rewarded me with water- in the form of tears!

Before I knew it, there were tears streaming down my face! No, I wasn't literally crying-  I suppose my eyes needed moistening desperately, so they started hyper-actively creating water, and that in turn was causing the great Ganges to flow from my eyes! But this is when the real fun started. Two aunties, who were sitting in the opposite seats, were in a rapt conversation with each other, until my uncontrollable display of tears attracted their attention.

Whatever their conversation was about- they forgot all about it. I, had now become the focal point of their discussions. Well, I don't blame them- I must've looked like quite a sight- my big eyes oozing with tears, and my desperate urgency to wipe them off would've set a trail of colorful stories in their mind- one of these stories fell onto my ears, and I was horrified! They tried to hush it up, but loud Delhi aunties wouldn't know the first thing about hushing anything up!

So, this is how Gossip monger Aunty A communicated to Over eager ears Aunty B- " Must've failed in one of here subjects in school!" I almost choked on my tears when I heard that!

Aunty B had another interesting theory- " These days, girls concentrate more on their boyfriends (she emphasized the word) than studying for exams! "

At that point I could have butted in and told them that I'm very much single and was one of the toppers in my class,(Irony at its best!) but I was desperate to get out of the train. My tears were getting worse. We had crossed Chattarpur; 15 minutes more in the company of gossiping aunties was not a very comfortable prospect.

Aunty A was subjecting me to merciless scrutiny- "Just look at her- she is traveling alone- Kids these days get into a lot trouble."

Aunty B, by this time was looking at me with sincere sympathy in her eyes; as if at long last, she could feel my pain! I remember at this point, I had put on a bright smile to assure them that everything is not as bad as it seems, but that got them staring harder at me! "2 more stations and I'm home", I thought desperately to myself!

My eyes felt sore from all the crying, and I wondered tiredly why not even once they didn't feel the need to ask me what the crying was all about! Not that I was looking for something like that- that saved me a lot of trouble actually! I would've had to tell them about my contact lenses, and they were not the type to buy that kind of explanation, so its great they didn't try to get to the bottom of it!

I abruptly got up, when it was announced that my station is next, and literally stumbled out of the train when the doors opened. That was the last I saw of the Ultimate 'Gossip Girls' duo! (Thank God !) Their insane conjectures added to my watery discomfort, were making my head reel!

After that, I NEVER wore contact lenses to school! The memories of the metro ride were enough to put me off lenses for quite a while! But this was one of the earliest memories of the metro I still fondly look back upon! When I play it in my head now, it was no less than a rib tickling scene from a Priyadarshan Film! Gob Bless both Aunty A and B, wherever they might be! :)

Life in a Metro!! An Overview...

 Okay, i have been so laid-back about writing lately, that im surprised that my blog hasn't been deactivated! No excuses! I'm not going to offer any excuse this time because I'm very enthusiastic about a new column that I'm going to start blogging about. Its called 'Life in a Metro'. Well, that introduction was way too abrupt. So not my style ! So let me get into this from the beginning- How I conceived the very idea of the column, and why its going to be fun for you guys to read through this!

Every writer faces a creative block at one point or the other; I must confess that its most frustrating not to have anything to write about! Its like staring at a blank wall like an idiot, waiting for something good to just pop in your head, but well, nothing does so you continue staring into that blank space remorselessly. So, yes, I was experiencing this dull empty block in my head owing to the rut of college, office, and home! But paradoxically, it is this routine that made me realize the full potential of my new column..

When I say "Life in a Metro", I DO NOT mean Anurag Basu's movie!! No, you may not find tales of unrequited love, cruel competition and stifling lives of struggling corporate workers in a metropolitan here- and on the other hand you may discover way way more than that through this column; What I'm really talking about is Dilli ki Jaan- The Delhi Metro! Still confused? Let me clear this up!

In these four years of under graduation from NIFT Delhi, I may have made thousands of trips on the metro already. I literally do not feel the need to learn to drive, because of this wonder train! Also, by car you can forget about travelling to Chandni Chowk, Sadar Bazaar and the curious little haunts of Delhi without getting your brains on fire! The heaving discomfort of parking your car into a tiny space, amidst the yells of locals and the crazy honking of belligerent vehicles, all packed in the same narrow lane, is too much for my heart to take! No, such acts are for those patient souls who pay the price for owning a car! Till the time I don't own one, I will avail of this trustworthy service which I believe is the backbone of Delhi transport.

The metro has brought me closer to 'Delhi" and got me acquainted with places that I wouldn't have ever been to otherwise. Today, if I decide to hop in a metro and go to a Godforsaken place in Delhi to get some work done, my mom will never object- she knows that if there is anything 'safe' in Delhi its the Metro..

And why is the Metro the hot topic of my column again? Well, if you truly and very minutely observe, the metro is a reflection on Delhi and its Delhiites. Culture, values, funny stories, crazy aunties, lechy men, pole dancing kids; the concoction of curious elements makes for a great eye opener on what Delhi means to me...

From today, I start blogging on my unusual, sometimes cocky experiences on this wonder train, and before i start this incredible journey, I'll thank all those anonymous people on the metro who have inspired me enough to get this column going! And lastly, I hope my ode to the Metro proves to be fascinating and captivating to my readers, and please do feel free to write about your experiences on this wonderful service as the blogging  continues!
 Cheers! Let's get this started!
:)

Highway To Heaven

The rustling of leaves,

The soft ticking of the clock,

The thunderous roar of lightening,

The crashing waves against rocks;

You can hear sweet symphony, when your ears are keen;

Jabbering mouths and wagging tongues,

Only succeed in making sounds obscene.

When you desire to retire,

From life’s routine satire,

Keep a distance from that blessed phone;

All you need is rest,

And you can do that best,

Away from its monotonous drone;

Do you wonder listlessly,

When finally you’d be free,

Of the weight that’s on your back?

Oh, don’t be so blue!

When you haven’t a damned clue,

Life may just cut you some slack!

Delve deeper into your existence,

And understand why you haven’t been strong,

To shun away worldly distractions,

You ought not to have taken this long!

Away from skyscrapers, And corporate alligators,

What you really need is a place to ‘belong’!

Don’t just dream of deserts and beaches,

While you wait in a traffic jam and your car screeches.

Get on the first flight to heaven!

A glass of champagne would do precious little to ease the pain,

When you need to be on cloud seven!

So learn to have fun,

Even while you slog;

If you’re a dreamer, You’ll learn quick,

To go the whole Hog!! :) 

Strangers

An empty frame, adorning my wall,
Your presence I cannot explain;

Alone, in the quiet chambers of my heart,
In the shadows of sweet awareness,
I seem to echo your name.

The pain that tears you apart;
Turns into incessant agony.
Burns me through my soul,
Poignantly, now more than ever before;

Married to the joys and sorrows of this bond,
Weaving an incredible dream,
I wonder, if I've  known you a lifetime or more; 

The strangeness of being united in pain;
Words swept under the rug of reserve.
The quickening of my breath,
When I sense you near;

We never exchanged a thousand words,
We never passed knowing smiles.
Yet, our eyes could never shield lies,
The answer revealed in their unnerving depths,
Defying superficial veneer.

Holding back the angry tide of emotion,
Lips sealed with halted out pour,
We part ways on many a excuse; 

In disquieting sleep, We meet again and again;
For once , our emotions unveiled..
When reality comes beckoning,
At the moment of blissful reckoning,
You fade away in constant interlude.

Ignoring the yearning of the soul,
We maintain a stony indifference,
In the face of our unlikely communion;
Does it matter, this awkwardness of situation?
When we're eternal companions?

Yet, we tread alone,
Separated by a sprawling distance,
In a vagabond country, two lonely rangers.

 But when the clocks unwind,
And our worlds collide,
Purging the distance that held us apart,
Would we still remain strangers? 




 

The Retarded RANK RACE!!

A concerned friend came to me the other day and asked, "Hey, Aren't you blogging anymore?!"
I smiled at her and told her firmly, "I don't blog just for the sake of blogging. Each and everything i write has a strong inspiration behind it. Without any inspiration at all, whatever I write will fall flat on its face!!" She seemed visibly satisfied with my answer, but made me uneasy with a comment that initially bewildered me- " What about your rank on that blogger site!? You'd better keep blogging or else it'll affect your rank!"

Well, there you go! I have to thank my enlightened friend! She has inspired me to get back to my keypad with that absurd comment. This obsession with 'RANK" is not just hers alone. Millions of Indians live with this obsession and wallow in it! Its always 'My Rank is better than hers, or Why couldn't i score a better rank than him?' Gosh! I wonder if somewhere down the line, we've compromised our individuality or more importantly, our happiness in the name of 'RANK'.

This confounded word has doggedly chased me throughout my school tenure, and continues to pester me at the age of 20! Its worse for people like me, who don't give a rat's arse as to how much we score, or where we stand in class, because our confidence in ourselves is unshakable. We don't need a RANK to justify our talent.

Yet, it breaks my heart to see young people over concerned about being high rankers. To me, it seems like a colossal waste of time. In the quest to be high rankers, they have forgotten that it is 'knowledge' and ' work experience' that can set you a class apart. You can only gain knowledge, if you allow your mind to be child like- full of adventure and innocent inquisitiveness! And that can only happen, if your mind is not saddled with the baggage of marks, rank, under confidence, or even overconfidence (Too much of anything is detrimental)!

The word 'rank' itself saps your creativity. Its my personal experience that when I complete my assignments diligently without letting the negativity of the entire world to weigh upon my heart, I feel content and self satisfied. After having done my bit of my work, all i want to do is go back to my bed and relax my tired muscles. I don't understand, how a person who is sufficiently busy in life, and has several priorities to attend to, can tax their mind over who's getting ahead in the 'rat race' and who's been left behind!

When i speak heatedly about this with Papa, he explains to me patiently, " There have to be certain parameters to judge a student. So, ranking students fits well into the education system, because you get judged on the basis of your work. It is for your own good. "

I would've believed him, if we had  been receiving education from the most professional college of the millennium, where sycophancy and pandering to a teacher's whim, is not what is going to get you a better rank than others. Granted, that all teachers are not biased and have generally the student's best interests at heart, but it is first and foremost important for you to be happy with your work! The marks you get are secondary. If you cringe from your work, and yet rack your head over where you stand in class, you are a nincompoop!

I am certainly blessed with parents, who inquire about my marks only to ascertain whether I have passed. It's not that i have set my standards low or I am undeserving of high marks. I just don't bother about them, and nor do my parents. They used to be elated, when I used to top my exams back in high school, and I'm sure they feel a twinge of disappointment, when they hear of my stagnant progress on the rank scale in college, but they never judge or harass me. My hard work and dedication in everything that i do; from the most exciting project to the most mundane task, does not go unnoticed by them. And their pride and belief in my caliber never ceases to dwindle. When it gets too much I cozy up to mamma and ask her tearfully, "Are you unhappy with me!?" In response, she holds me close to her chest in a tight embrace, and says, "You are my Shona mey (dearest girl)! Don't be hard on yourself." Those words are like an elixir to me- the fact that someone understands you and gives you back your lost confidence, is what you need when you let this horrid word 'rank' affect you.

Contrary to this, I have seen lots of friends, driven crazy by their parents, to be toppers! For what joy, may I ask? Only to prove to your relative, that their daughter or son is less intelligent than yours? Is this what society has come to? Recently, when our mid-term marks were out, once of my classmates, got so affected by her score that she ruined the fabric she was working on. Anxiety was stamped on her face, and her mood for the week, at least, was somber and aloof.

Lets not pretend that every high ranker, achieves paramount success in life. Renowned individuals have been successful around the world for their revolutionary ideas and the drive to create building blocks for the future. So many names have gone down in the record- Rajnikanth, Abdul Kalam, Marc Zucherberg, to name a few. The list is endless. If all they had to do in life, was to frame their grades on a wall, I'm certain they would not have earned the respect and admiration of millions. They dreamed big, and they had the courage to make it happen; they lived their respective journeys beautifully, through the highs and lows of life.

I would hope to see my country, look beyond the rat race, and analyse life for what it really is- A colour palette! Each colour signifies some or the other phase in our life, and indicates that life is multi hued. No single color makes up your personality- all the colors on the palette make you distinctive as an individual, and each color is special; from the brightest to the darkest. Similarly, look at the several aspects of your life, and look back on all your achievements. You would soon realize that the journey to reach your goal, was far more meaningful and inspiring than the rank that was awarded to you. Learn to fall in love with life once again, before it's too late and you lose your spark! Maybe, watching Three Idiots again would help? :)

We the Women!!!!

Men are certainly uncomplicated.. And not to mention, predictable. Maybe that's why its so easy for some women to make them dance to their tunes. Men (at my age, at least) are not looking for commitment. So they set their standards accordingly- she should be a sex bomb; good boobs, nice legs, a full mouth; anything that can fire their sexual desires. But they do not take into consideration a very important asset; that sets us poles apart from them- our Brains... Because all our plans, all our desires, all ours motives are all there! In the head! Unfortunately, some ignorant men would still like to believe that a woman is extremely emotional, and all her decisions are masterminded by the heart. The fact, that we have a fully functional brain, is of little or no interest to them. Now, most of the times, a lustful, sex driven man would overlook this very important asset and enjoy the physical aspect of a relationship, until one day, he realizes that he has fallen in love with this bombshell... (or so he thinks!) The bombshell, on the other hand, is completely casual about him, and drops him like a rock once she realizes that she can't handle a man harboring feelings of love for her.. Suddenly, even the sex is not as satisfying as it used to be.. So, only one solution can be worked out- A walk out!!! She walks out on the man and moves onto victim no. 2!

In the case above, I'm referring to a particular woman prototype- the type of girl, who is extremely confident about her sex appeal, and uses it to her advantage. Don't get me wrong! I don't have anything against this prototype. I, in fact, grudgingly admire her. The fact that she is sexy and manipulative is not what i envy- But it is that trait in her, which makes it so easy for her to turn down a man who is in "love" with her, is what makes me respect her. Earlier, it was a man's prerogative to break a woman's heart with callous ease; why should men be offended today, when they are at the receiving end of a woman's indifference?? Especially, when their sole basis for choosing a partner was just sexual attraction? I mean, stop complaining that a woman broke your heart! You let yourself get tricked into a heartbreak! Why do you have movies like "pyaar ka punchnama" today?? To warn you against this prototype! And then these very men try to insinuate, that women lack brain power! How hypocritical!

Prototype no 2 is the one i belong to. We have the sex appeal, we have the brains and the wit to drive a man crazy out of his mind. BUT, being temperamental and eccentric, we turn the sexy side only when we WANT to. We would judge a man, ascertain first whether he is NOT a male chauvinist pig, and only then enter into a healthy conversation. We also, don't have any qualms about being rude to the opposite sex if they behave like pompous brats. It is this prototype that men usually avoid. We may or may not be physically attractive, but a sharp tongue and mind is what makes our prototype unconventional (To men). We are not shy of expressing our views before anyone, and enter a charged debate without turning so much as an eyelash. Yet, we are the faithful kind, IF in a relationship, and believe in total commitment. Total commitment, translates into marriage, so we don't really hold too much stock with frivolous 'boyfriend- girlfriend' relationships. In short, we are much too mature for our age, and it is exactly this that men are afraid of! A woman in control of herself,  and an intelligent woman at that, is the last thing they'd want! They would rather forge temporary alliances with Prototype 1. and have their asses kicked!

There are several emerging prototypes within women- A recent sex survey by  the Times of India reveals, that slowly but surely, the Indian woman is taking pride in her assertiveness and emerging as a powerful force to reckon with. Her autonomy and openness to discuss sex is an indicator of progressive times, at least where women are concerned!

So Mr Prude, wake up to the Modern woman, and respect the fact that we can use our brains as effectively as our hearts! Irrespective of our prototype. ;)   






 

Soul Synergy!!

I believe that uniqueness of a person lies in the goodness of his soul... Confused? Maybe it’s an abrupt way to start a deep introspection into something that is given so less importance even by the dictionary. It says that the soul “is an immaterial part of a person, the actuating cause of an individual life.” Pretty accurate, some would say. Others would say that it is that entity which leaves the bodies of the departed to unite with God. I don’t wholeheartedly agree with both viewpoints. The dictionary definition is rather impersonal and practical; who is to judge whether the soul is ‘immaterial’? Who is to know what the soul wants? Secondly, a soul was born inside of us, when we were brought into the world by the creator, and will stay with us till we breathe our last. So why should the soul only be associated with the departed?

To answer the above questions as honestly as possible, let us first understand why the soul is an integral part of our being. It is true, that without a soul stirring inside us we would be bereft of emotions- unable to love, unable to feel hurt and humiliation, unable to feel anger or sorrow. We would be no better than cold tombstones; cast in a curse of lifelessness and ignorant of the luxury of feeling the glorious sun beaming down on us in the warm summers, and the cold breeze stinging our cheeks in the snowy winters. It is because of this ‘soul’ that we are engulfed by a multitude of emotions every day. It is the ‘soul’ that blows life into our inanimate bodies and stays with us through the highs and lows of life.

A person’s action speaks volumes about their character. Good deeds and bad deeds make a person’s life, for man has to live with the eternal conflict of choosing the right path between the two. Our lives our full of trials and tribulations, but a person with strength of character and soul cannot break into pieces in the face of adversities. We just have to look back on the lives of our freedom fighters- so many of them were tortured and brutalized when the British forces rose to vanquish them- despite the atrocities they were made to face, the British couldn't crush their spirit. They were defiant till the very end, and so many of them died brave deaths in the name of freedom. Today we remember them fondly, because somewhere we do realize that it takes a lot of will power and courage to sacrifice all for a noble cause. It was the soul residing in their bodies that made them especial and unique. Their bodies were beaten and bruised, but their souls were emboldened in the face of brutality.

The cause of negative emotions and ill feeling in people is also largely connected with the soul.  A deprived upbringing, a life of poverty and degradation compel a person to resort to wrong means- Hunger and poverty can drive them to a point of insanity where doing the wrong thing becomes a compulsion. How can such a person feed his soul? He has seen such appalling suffering and injustice in life,that his soul withers inside him, and words like ‘faith’ and ‘hope’ are wiped out from his very existence. He obviously does not believe in good deeds, as fate has been cruel to him. And yet his soul needs love. Love is, in fact, his only hope for redemption.

The all powerful soul can make you do great things- whether you would rather choose to perform good or bad deeds, is dependent on how you want to live life. It’s important to know such things about ourselves because as individuals, each of us is special and each of us has something valuable to give to the world. In present times we see cowardice, corruption, moral degradation sullying our society in general, and our beliefs in good values have started to dwindle. Our own experiences embitter us and the realities of life start blurring before our eyes. Those surrounded with such negativity should look within themselves for the answer- An honest and forthright person can never lose himself and his ideals- even in the most catastrophic times!  

On the festival of lights, remember to light the fire within YOU- that fire, which can illuminate your life as well as the lives of others! Spread joy, happiness, love and mercy, and unburden that soul!! Let your soul know true freedom! 

A very happy to Diwali to all you beautiful people and your families!! J Have a Blast, WITHOUT crackers!! Cheers! 

A love like Platinum...

Love.. It's a wonderful word. But its interpretation is always different, depending on the context. For instance, an idiotically romantic teenage girl would picture first love to be something straight out of a Yash Raj film- a flamboyant 'Raj'; chasing her in lush, yellow fields, and serenading her with sweet melodies. For someone else, love is an all consuming need- The neglected housewife, who had once married a man crazily in love with her, now has to hang on to the last shreds of love to save her marriage, hoping.. Hoping that maybe one day, he will fall in love with her, again. Like the old times.

 And me? You may ask what it means to me, but i doubt you'd be satisfied with what i have to offer. I have been single all these years, and I've never been happier! At least i dont get into petty fights with my partner over why he winked at some random girl in my presence, or why he forgot to text me 'I love you' before going to bed. Trust me! I've been around girls who prefer treating their boyfriends like watchdogs rather than human beings, and i feel compelled to say that if love is all about behaving like an attention hog,  I'm not really up to it!

But, like any other girl, however inexperienced i may be in this field, i do wish to be married and 'feel' love. When i discover that i'm in love, I would not want to scream out from the rooftops that the impossible happened, but would rather cherish it in my heart, like a well kept secret only understood by that special person - This is how i imagine my Platinum day of love to be-

We were married 6 months back. Arranged marriages bring with them a sense of reserve in both individuals and the openness to explore a life of togetherness, may not come as readily as it would to a couple already in love. Rihaan and I were complete strangers to each other- even when we sat together through the wedding rituals, neither of us had any conception of how this marriage is going to change our lives.

I still remember, how acutely uncomfortable i was on the wedding night. I did not want a stranger to touch me- so what if we were man and wife in front of the rest of the world!? He was still a stranger to me. As it turned out, I needn't have bothered at all. Before even making an attempt to lift the ghunghat off my head, he said very abruptly, "I have to be honest with you- I'm already in love with someone else. And will be, for the rest of my life." Apparently, he was forced into this marriage by his parents as they would not let him marry a girl of his choice. Whatever the reason, I had been pulled into an awkward situation, wherein I was doomed to be the wife of a man whose affections i could never win. Not wanting to embitter things between us, I decided to be brave and put forward the most diplomatic truce i could think of at the time- " Let's be friends."

From that point onward, we were inseparable friends! We laughed together, cried together, chatted together, fought together and spent six beautiful months under the same roof in our sweet little world. We had become indispensable to each other- He would complain about his co workers and bosses to me, and i would listen to him indulgently and offer suitable advise. We had gotten so close to each other, that no one, not a soul could've guessed how complicated things actually were. We even had our parents fooled about our 'platonic' relationship. But there are some facets about life you cannot choose to ignore, however persistent you may be. As time flew, I realized grudgingly that a feeling of discontent had begun to rise in me. A feeling i had tried to ignore had finally come to the surface and had begun to eat into my conscience. I was falling in love with my husband. And a marriage of pretense was not was not working out well for me. Rihaan was quick to notice the change; "Whats wrong? You're not being yourself." He had an angry frown on his face when i chose not to answer. Maybe i needed some time to figure out things before i spoke to him at length about the future- about him and me. My heart twisted when i thought of the girl he was in love with. Long time back he had shown me a photo of his love- she was quite beautiful. I wondered if they were in touch. The suspense was too much for me and i made up my mind to have a word with him. The only trouble was- how?

I was giggling. I shuffled my feet uncomfortably and looked at him shyly. Rihaan was leaning against the wall, his arms folded, and a sympathetic look on his face- he thought I had gone bonkers! I had made him stand there for an interminable period, hoping that i would be able to say those three words, which would sum everything up and end this nonsense! But all i could do was giggle nervously. Then when i sensed that he was losing patience, i tried to pull myself together and muttered under my breath- 'I love you'. I did not look at him immediately out of shyness, but when i did look at him, the goofy smile that was playing around my mouth vanished. Rihaan's expression was stone, and he couldn't quite meet my eyes. He said to me in a heavy voice, "I'm sorry," and walked past me, leaving me in a state of shock and anguish. I had had enough. I packed my bags, and decided to leave for my mother's place immediately. I was not prepared to be in love with a man who didn't need a wife. Not bothering to inform him, in the middle of the night, i walked out of the house ,bag and baggage intact, and caught a cab.

It had been ten days at my mothers', and i had not received any news of him. He didn't call and i didn't bother to get in touch. It hurt me immensely to behave like i didn't care, but staying with him would've been far more hurtful. My parents had realized that something was amiss when few days later, my mother rushed into my room with the most upsetting news- "You must go back to Rihaan; he's terribly ill!" I sprang out of the bed in preparation to leave and asked my mom if she had any other news of him. She shook her head worriedly-" Why aren't you in touch with him? He is your husband!" I chose to ignore that question and hurriedly packed whatever medicines that i thought he might need. I set off without further ado and reached our home in no time. The door had been left open and I was shocked to see the state of the apartment. Things were strewn around- the dirty clothes, utensils, stains and scratches made me wince and shudder at the neglected state of affairs. I walked into the bedroom, and there he was, my husband; burning with a fever of 102. He turned around to see who it was, and there was a grin on his wan face to see me back. His eyes glowed- " I knew you'd come," he said simply. I kept quiet, and started attending to him. I managed to brew something for him, so that he could take his dose of antibiotic, and put him to sleep after his fever came down by a few notches. I couldn't sleep a wink, for fear the fever would return. He was up early the next morning, his hair ruffled and eyes still heavy from sleep. I helped him up against the cushions, and not wanting to engage in a conversation, tried moving away from him, when he clasped my hand and pulled me towards him in a hug."Don't leave me again. I want you here... With me. Always." This, i hadn't expected, and was immobile in his arms. It was only when I disengaged myself from him and looked at his face, that i realized that finally- he too had found his day of love. He didn't quite confess to me his love, but said with an air of self pity, that he hadn't had a proper meal ever since I had left  him high and dry. Looking at the state of the house and its master, I was not at all amazed to hear this. I smiled at him and demanded that he hug me again. He complied readily, and I melted in his arms, knowing for the first time the warmth of his love.

One would be amazed at how my imagination can stretch- yes! I actually made that up! 'Our Platinum day of Love'. But honestly, whatever the situation, whatever the story; love is precious! Much akin to the stainless glory of Platinum, marriage too is a glorious beginning to the many chapters of yours life. We begin to wrap ourselves around emotions that were strange and unwelcome to us at one time- we begin to understand love, an emotion which is forged in a bond of a lifetime. Untainted, unblemished, and untarnished by the tides of time- A love like Platinum.      

http://www.preciousplatinum.in/en/about-platinum/platinum-day-of-love


   

Measuring 'Happiness'!!

Happiness; an unfound treasure,

A world of joy, and bitter sweet pleasure,

It is a heaven untouched

By men who know only how to ‘want’,

Their souls are chased by Satan,

Their hearts are full of scorn.

But do they really know what they desire?

Living in a world of sin,

Thieves and liars.

If happiness could be so easily bought,

Why are their lives still fraught,

With dark and dreary days?

When the demons of the mind,

Disappear out of sight,

Man will find his way through the haze.

Stumbling upon the truth,

He will curse himself for being blind,

He had looked in the wrong places,

Knocked at the wrong doors,

He had failed to see reason even in the light.

For the treasure he hunted,

Lies in the humblest of places,

In the mind untainted with greed,

Where Satan doesn't leave his traces.

A content smile,

A helping hand,

A partner for life,

A walk in the sand;

Mere memories,

That fill one’s life with meaning.  

Just count your blessings,

And spread the word of love,

Hear your soul wondrously singing!

For this is Happiness, this is Glory!

Riches, fortunes, a Kingdom of Wealth,

Are just wishful stories.

To be happy is to be unafraid,

To tread on the path of God,

With boundless faith,

To find peace in times of strife.

So calm your mind, and ask yourself,

Have you truly found happiness in this life?

Lets go ZOOOOMMM!! :)

I  don't know what its like to nonchalantly pack up ones bags, amidst several commitments, and just leave for the perfect destination. At 20, I haven't had my first road trip. There were several tempting opportunities that I could've pounced upon, but Mom's flat refusal would always leave me sulking and discouraged, and I would inevitably slink back into routine life. Frankly movies like Dil Chahta hai and Zindagi na milegi Dobara have done absolutely nothing for my chutzpah! Yet, I dare to dream, that one fine day, with my best buddy, I'm going to hit the road and have the time of my life!

So, This here's how its going to be- The PERFECT Road Trip..

Sumedha and I are seated comfortably in our newly rented Wagon R. Sumedha at the driver's seat, trying to appear as calm as ever, and I'm sitting right beside her, taut with tension.The pessimist that i am, I ask nervously, "You think we should've got some more people along? Not feeling right about this all of a sudden."
Sumedha speaks through gritted teeth, "You are not chickening out on this one! How unsafe can a Bombay to Goa road trip be?"
" You're nervous too!" I counter her.
"That's because our parents think we're going to Goa together to WORK on a project with a TEAM. Remember! You made it up?" But Sumedha is not going to let her conscience come in the way of having fun this time! And nor am I, despite the nagging inhibitions. History is not going to repeat itself. Yes.. Two gutsy girls have finally decided to kick some ass! No more questions are asked, as I turn up the music in the car and we start rolling on to DESTINATION GOA!

This trip is not at all like the spontaneous stuff you see in movies. EVERYTHING is planned to its last detail. Sumedha was in charge of tracking the best routes for the trip. She has the massive task of driving the car for not less than 8 hrs, and she has to be extremely confident about the routes, because there is no way a topographically lost girl like me, can be of much use where geography is concerned. I, on the other hand, was busy making inquiries about the sight seeing part of the trip, and most importantly, the BEACHES!!   After a week of meticulous planning, and stocking necessary items for our little excursion, we were ready to set out.

I'm not so much in favor of 'The more the merrier' concept. There is more adventure and thrill attached to traveling with that one best pal, who fills your life with cheer and jamboree! And Sumedha is one such friend.

We can slowly feel the excitement building up, as we bid goodbye to the familiar sights of Bombay, and hit NH17;The fastest route to reach Goa. Thanks to Sumedha's adeptness at picking up on new routes, our drive is smooth and scenic. No sooner we are driving along the Western Ghats. The ghats are picturesque and have left me spellbound. I don't pay any attention to the map that's open in front of me, leaving poor Sumedha to her own devices. It is the perfect place to take a short break. I urge Sumedha to park the car at the nearest convenient place.

Once we get off the car, we can truly admire the spectacular sight of the sun rising out of the ghats. What makes it special is that its just the two of us, in such a vast space of nothingness, to witness the morning sun in all its glory. Not a soul is around, and we both sit together on a big rock, enjoying this quiet, yet disturbingly beautiful landscape. I smile as I see the glow of sheer contentment on Sumedha's face...Yes! We finally made it till here!

Our trip has a lot of stoppages, since both Sumedha and I are suckers for photography, and we just need the slightest excuse to flick out our cameras. We stop by villages and small hutments, where we click lots of photos with the locals and try know more about a world that is so very uncomplicated and simple.

Once we pass Chiplun in Ratnagiri, we are famished and spot a clean looking teal stall, where we feast on tea and snacks. After a very unhealthy, late lunch, we hit the road again. This time all charged to reach Goa before evening sets in.

A perfect road trip cannot be perfect without a glitch or two. Two hours away from Goa, Sumedha gives me a heart attack as she confesses to me that she has lost her bearings. We've arrived at a place which is slightly forested and the road ahead is definitely not the one we should be on. The map has no markings for this place, and there is no one around to ask directions from. To make things worse, one of the tires of the car is punctured, and even though there is a spare tire in the booty, neither of has the expertise of replacing old tires for new ones. We both are panic stricken, and are on the verge of hopelessness, when I suddenly realize that I know someone who can help. I call my emergency contact at once, and he reassures me that he will arrange for a taxi to pick us up from where we are stranded. 

We wait two for hours in that secluded location, our hearts in our mouth, for the taxi to arrive. When it finally makes an appearance, we jump into it, now anxious as ever to reach Goa with an urgency like never before. We are relieved that we are on the last leg of the road trip. Our limbs feel tired after our adventures, and all I need is a big bed to sleep it off. Once we have reached Goa, we've forgotten our trials, and we look forward to making our trip an unforgettable experience.

Someone suggested that we ought to take a train to Goa from Bombay, as that may prove to be a lot more economical and faster. Be that as it may, train travel does not have the same magical effect of a road trip. A road trip is also a self discovery trip; a great learning experience, which connects you physically to a world you may not have even known to exist. Everyone should be given a chance to live life large, and I can't think of a better plan than cutting loose from everyday life and running away to a beautiful place. What you'll discover on the way, will surely change you're life forever! That's a promise!



http://www.facebook.com/AmbiPurIndia

 

Its not really difficult to describe..'ME'.

A word that defines you,

It makes you and it breaks you,

Your sole friend,

Your sole enemy,

Its the word 'ME'.

A Blind fool,

To always want things your way,

You cause your loved ones hurt,

And later shroud yourself in dismay.

You know this word makes you selfish and lowly,

It strips you of your conscience,

And eats your humility slowly.

 Yet, without "me" you are nothing,

A body without spirit,

A light without fire,

There is nothing more you need,

Nothing more you desire.

'me is your identity,

'me' is your being,

'me is your present,

An intangible force,

That keeps you alive and breathing.

But one day you will realise,

That 'me' is too less to suffice,

A lifetime of pain and suffering.

Mankind's ultimate truth,

A reality seldom understood,

'Me' can never be as important as 'YOU'. 

Impossible is nothing!

Mere words may fail to reassure you that life is not as miserable as you think. That's when poetry comes to the rescue. A poem can  caress your soul, quieten that restless mind of yours and make you look at life with a renewed perspective. 
I know some people who have turned defeatist in the face of hardship, and have made a mess of things. I remember there was a time, when I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown and I felt like all the Gods had turned their back on me. That's when my sister said to me, "You're a fighter, and I'm proud of you!' I looked back on my life, and i realized that there was a lot of truth in her words.. I was a fighter! I AM a fighter. Life has changed since then. Whenever faced with a difficult situation, I hold onto to all the courage that is left in me, and stray away from morbid thoughts.
I also sought comfort in poetry- I had found a great way to de-stress! Out of all the poems, I have written, this one is dearest to me. It never fails to motivate me.
 I hope you too, never forget that the hero in you is very much alive!

Tu dil ko itna mazboot kar,
ki woh kabhi ro na sake,
tu har aandhi ko paar kar,
Mumkin kar who jo kabhi ho na sake.

Jee jaan lagake ke mehnat kar,
Ki kabhi tera dukh tujhe rok na sake,
Daphnale apna darr,
mumkin kar woh,
Jo kabhi hona sake

Pyaar na kare tuhse koi,
toh tu apne aap se pyaar kar,
Agar tu hai sahi, aur duniya samjhe galat,
toh tu poori duniya se jang kar.

Hausla kaise toote tera,
Mazil toh hai saamne.
Jaan bhi hain, aur jigar bhi,
Toh phir kyun hai ye haath kaapte.

Harr uss zeher ko banake paani,
Tu peele amrit samajke,
Bhagwan ka hai banda tu,
kitni door bhagega,
apne aap ko koste koste.

Duniya na sanje tera dukh,
Duniya waale hai jaahil,
Tu khud hi apne apko sambhale,
Karle manzil ko haasil.

Yuhi ladte jhagadte,
Tu woh raasta apna,
jis pe koi na chal sake,
Tu har aandhi ko paar kar,
Mumkin kar woh, jo kabhi ho na sake.


                                                                   ******* 

Where are all the BOOTYful BOYS? :s

Remember the song dhak dhak karne laga? I'm talking about the original, in which Madhuri Dixit grabs Anil Kapoor's amorous attentions with her bold and suggestive dance moves? Tip Tip Barsa Pani is no less! Raveena Tandon practically throws herself at Akshay Kumar, until he too, realizes that he wants to be naughty, and joins her in the seductive dance sequence!

Bollywood hasn't changed much since then. Apart from the choreography, ( which now is far more sophisticated than what it used to be in the 90s) and a new crop of actors, Item numbers dish out the same stale meat. The format is so predictable and overused! Yet, when we hear them fresh, the masala and masti of item songs appeal to us immediately, and we hardly care about how the song has been filmed ,so long as it sounds peppy.

Munni Badnaam Hui had all of us dancing to oomphy Malaika's tunes, and Sheila ki Jawani proved us wrong in thinking that Katrina can't make ample use of her 'jawani'!  These songs have a common thread- Item GIRLS, obviously! And it is this repetition, that i am frankly, bored of. It's a perfect example of the stereotyping I often talk about. Imagine renaming these very songs to 'Munna Badnaam Hua' and 'Akshay ki Jawani'!! It is a fantasy that I've been nurturing for quite a while now!

Why are only Item girls subjected to a parade of sleazy men showering them with notes? Excuse me! Where is OUR prerogative to ogle brazenly at the well built and supple bodies of Bollywood hunks? Are they just camera shy, or has the concept of Item boys, not yet penetrated into our quintessential item numbers!?

Subha Hone Na de, featuring Akshay Kumar and John Abraham is probably one of the first of its kind to showcase 'male' sexuality and open admiration for the male physique. Just a few days back i saw the popular 'Chinta ta Chita' song from Rowdy Rathore, (not for the first time) and a particular part of the song got me thinking about how we've gotten used to putting women on display to be scrutinized by the lust driven public.The lyrics- 'Naya naya saal hai naya naya maal hai' rankled my ears, and of course, this 'naya maal' was an item girl, in the shape of Kareena Kapoor. Why is Bollywood not tapping the abundant testosterone that's available in the industry? Almost all the popular male actors today are vigilant about working out and staying in shape. The 'Naya Naya Maal' ought to symbolise the bootyful boys of the industry, and why not? It's high time, that we looked at men and women differently. In in the 21st century anything is possible and acceptable!

And all the Macho men around with two left feet should really take notes from Ranbir Kapoor, who stole away my heart with his item number 'Tai Tai Phish'! He's what i call a 'New Age' actor! So if he can do it, and make it look convincing, all you guys need to do is give your 'kamariya' a little twist, and charm all the ladies in the audience. For all you know, we might just ambush you with notes and make you rich overnight! :)


   

RAPING MY INDEPENDENCE

What is it like to be a woman in India? I reply with a heavy heart, that we are an endangered species. Do we even  possess the fundamental rights that the constitution boasts about? Right to safety and protection, Right to Freedom and Equality, the Right to life, and every other right in the book that has been designed to protect our dignity and self respect, have made a mockery of our existence, and have left us defenseless in own country.

Among other fears that choke our independence, the fear of being raped is the most horrifying and intimidating. A woman can be raped in many ways. I often travel in the general compartment of the Delhi Metro. I don't even have to look around and i already know that all the men in the compartment have their eyes on me, like hungry vultures, in eager anticipation of a prey. Some of them lose interest; others start ogling at other women who make an appearance in the compartment, and creepily there are some who will refuse to look at anything or anybody other than me. Isn't that rape? I don't blame a man for being a man, but no one has the right to make me feel uncomfortable or uneasy in a place which I have as much right to share as any other man! I'm sure other women would have their versions of being raped everyday. Some would speak of being groped, poked, squeezed and insulted in buses and some would talk about their own fathers, brothers or even husbands, trampling upon their aspirations and self- esteem.

What makes it so easy for a man to undermine a woman? What makes him think that we can be treated like the dirt of his feet? Indian men, are alas, resistant to change. Even in progressive India, it is comforting for an average man to exercise his dominance over a woman. He is rarely made to answer for his actions as he feels secure and protected in the existing patriarchal system, which has time and again tilted in favor of the male, even when it should have backed the female. After being raped, the woman becomes the carrier of humiliation and insult, and the man escapes scot free, as no one feels it necessary to make him pay for his sins.

As a country, we have a an appalling habit of getting accustomed to the way of things. It took, a barbaric rape incident to jolt us out of our habitual lives, and wake up to the the savage murder of a young girl who committed the folly of choosing a private bus as a mode of transport, back home, only to ride to her death.
Nirbhaya, reminded us that we are outcasts in our own country. There are other cases we haven't even heard of, but are probably as shocking and outrageous in nature.

Ever since, I read about rape cases and what a rapist can do to a woman, I have often wondered why a man would delight in dishonoring a woman. Can it only be animal lust or sexual deprivation? But my mind ruled that out. When is sex is readily available in brothels, why would a man go to such lengths to satisfy his lust? Is he mentally ill or just a pervert?  On thinking further, i realized that the answer really lies in the way men are brought up in our country. In  the North, the predominant and favored sex, men are taught to believe that they have all the rights, while their mothers, sisters and wives have none. A woman is made to take to the kitchen and handle all domestic chores, as she is seen fit only for that. It is her 'duty' to serve her husband. and abide by' his' rules. Her status in the household is only slightly elevated, when she gives birth to a boy, but even so, she she is under the dominance of her husband. The girl child is yet to be treated as an equal, as she is still unwelcome and perceived as a burden on the family; one which they can only get rid of when she's married, and  that implicates her family further, as they would have to shell out dowry to get her married in the first place. In villages, and small towns, there is no conception of a 'modern' India, where a woman can venture out of the house and earn as much as a man, even more in fact. A woman is probably not even aware of her rights, and how can she? She is not even sent to school! And even if she does go to school, do they teach young children about their rights and privileges? I remember having learnt about fundamental rights for the first time, when i was in class 8! Isn't that a bit too late!

A man, who has grown up in  a patriarchal environment, cannot tolerate a woman outshining him, or even earning success and plaudits. It is the biggest insult to his manhood. According to him, a woman should keep her head bowed, and always remember her 'maryaada', which is to rot inside the four walls of the house. The moment, he sniffs her spirit trying to break free of this well defined 'maryaada', he is enraged and he believes he should 'conform' her and make her see the light. This warped and convoluted vision, is a result of his upbringing and the values that have been ingrained in him. In most cases, men rape just to prove a point. So he rapes her and reminds her, that he is the boss, and if she messes with him, he will always torment and torture her with his might and physical strength, and tame her into a docile submissive creature that she ought to be. The rapists in the Nirbhaya case, hurled insulting comments at her (before raping her) and her companion for staying out of their homes late at night (9o clock was late for them). A woman alone with a man at this hour! What  a prostitute, they would have thought. A loose woman, who must entertain them, now that she had set foot in the trap they had laid out. In their perverted heads, they didn't even twice before tearing her apart; they had the overbearing confidence and temerity that they could get away untainted with blood on their hands.And they weren't completely wrong! Looks like the juvenile is going to get away with only 5 yrs of imprisonment, and then one can only hope he completes his full term in hell. There are, of course other reasons, which can bring out a cannibal in a man. Reasons which i have not yet been able to fit in to my reasoning behind rapes and rapists. But the predominant reason, seems to allude to outdated and regressive connotations that  are attached to women; and i'm not just talking about villages, among the uneducated lot; the educated and affluent class can also baffle you with their stereotyping of women.

India may have to take several births, to fully realize the importance of women. Awards and titles to women may hail their contribution in society and also stress for women reforms, but the ground reality is that we are still persecuted and made to believe that we are the 'lesser' sex. When a woman can do so much more than a man, why should her dignity always be at stake and why should she be in the mercy of a man!?

For starters, lets teach young boys in school, that it was a 'woman' who gave them the gift of life, and it was from her milk that they drew their bodily strength. So before insulting and demeaning any woman, they should remember who they owe their lives to.
As for young girls, lets teach them to believe in themselves, and be fearless in their pursuit of independence!

MAHA fast on Mahashivratri

A month back i was convinced that God was angry with me! Whenever I see that bus, i resist a vindictive urge to flash my middle finger. No doubt, you have no idea what i'm talking about and so i will have to fill you in with the details..
It happened on a Monday. After a very eventful day trip to Surajkund, we were all aboard the college bus. I plugged in my earphones, cutting out the noise and ruckus my over excited juniors were making. My friend Somdutta was sitting right behind, she too, absorbed in her own world, probably looking back on our adventures in the mela. Such a contented feeling settled over me; I felt nice about the ear rings i had bought from Surajkund. I kept constantly fingering them- I didn't know then, that they would symbolic of bad luck.

Our bus chugged at the pace of a turtle, and one could see the sun hiding behind the clouds. The slight drizzle had now been replaced with a chill in the air. After what seemed like a decade, our aged dilapidated bus heaved into our college, like an overweight sumo wrestler, and with a grotesque rumble, it parked itself next to a curb. I quickly double checked, if i had everything in place, and later started walking towards the door, my heavy bag on my back. When i reached the steps of the bus, I realised that a song was playing on my mobile, and i should shut it off. Confidently I shifted my attention to my mobile and took a step down simultaneously, and then... Then the rest as they say, is history.

A searing pain shot through my feet. I was on all fours, and i swear i felt like i was being crucified. When I'm  in pain, I try to be as brave about it as i can. So even though i felt, like someone was constantly driving nails into my left foot, I moaned dispiritedly and quietly. Somdutta, and a group of other friends tried to maneuver me to a raised platform. My feet felt like lead, and I was filled with dread when I examined them. I knew my right leg had been badly sprained, but my heart had serious misgivings about the left one. Everyone around me, reassured me, 'Abbey, sprain hai, kyun tension le rhi hai!?' But i knew myself a bit too well. There were spasms of pain, and with every spasm, tears ran down my cheeks uncontrollably. Somdutta wrapped her shawl around me, because I had started shivering, and she stuck with me till the time mama and didi entered the scene.

I was rushed to the doctor, and after an x-ray, the doctor gave me such delightful news- two fractures and one dislocation, and not to mention- my third toe had shrunk, and had to be 'pulled' into place. When i have an overwhelming bad premonition about something it always has a way of coming true. After a painful operation, my foot was heavily plastered and i was prescribed two weeks bed rest. Two weeks!? What about my attendance!? Attendance is the Betal of all problems! I remembered I belonged to a sadistic college, and i wasn't exactly best friends with my college admin. either. I had raised my voice in public against them once, and from then on was branded a 'rebel'! Medical certificate is not considered good enough evidence, to convince them of a genuine tragedy! I was doomed!

 So, what did my darling mommy do, to ease her tension? ( Bless her!) She called up my aunt in Bombay, and she in turn called up the family astrologer,who said in all seriousness, that I should keep a fast on Mahashivratri, to appease Lord Shiva. He comes above all the Gods, and by worshiping Him, several other Gods are worshiped. Great! When I was running into bad luck last year, he said that Lord Narayana was not being chummy with me, and before that it was the mighty Sun God. I sometimes wonder, what I might've done to piss off so many Gods at once!

Don't get me wrong! I'm very religious! I just don't believe in the concept of worshiping different Gods at different times. If  your heart is pure, and your devotion is sincere, God will always ride you through the worst of times; be it Jesus, Guru Nanak, Allah, or Durga. Since Lord Shiva represents so many deities, I was keen on keeping a fast on Shivaratri. Not For any selfish gains, but to have a heart to heart, wherein I make up for all the times in the past one year that i have not been as devoted to God, as i was before.

God respected my wish, and fortunately no obstacle came in the way of my fast, and I really did feel absolved of all my sins, when I sat for the Shiva Puja around eight on the auspicious night of Shivratri. I know how moody I can get when I'm hungry, but i didn't complain about keeping a full day fast, as i felt duty bound to do it. It felt nice to take out some time for God. After the puja, I broke the fast with dahi, sweets, and badam.

The night was filled with sounds of ecstatic celebration, and Mahashivratri felt like a party all of a sudden! So much so, that even with my broken foot, i wanted to dance on a Shiva Tandava Strota.
I do not know whether my tribulations are going to be any less after the Shiva puja, but i do know, somewhere, that I have won my way into Lord Shiva's heart, whether He likes it or not! :D

HAR HAR MAHADEV!

The 'blunt' Treatment: DIWALI CIRCUS!!

The 'blunt' Treatment: DIWALI CIRCUS!!: Crackers, bombs, anaars, rockets! You name it! Delhi was bombarded with all the fireworks one could get their hands on, in the name of Diwa...

DIWALI CIRCUS!!

Crackers, bombs, anaars, rockets! You name it! Delhi was bombarded with all the fireworks one could get their hands on, in the name of Diwali. 

I don't wish to be a wet blanket, but really! What thrill in the name of heaven can you get by creating such a racket! Have we long forgotten what a 'peaceful' Diwali is? 

Diwali is not a festival of fireworks! Its a festival of lights! 

We were house bound, because at the thought of stepping out , amidst such noise and smoke disturbed us...

At one end we could hear, elders and children alike, rejoicing in bursting crackers and bombs, and at the other end we could hear the wailing of dogs, who were confused and scared out of their wits at this wild outburst of lights and smoke in the air.

Its sad, to see how parents set a bad example, by encouraging their kids to play with this junk... Especially, when there is ample information on the net, and otherwise eliciting the damaging effects of these insidious 'playthings'! 

After the noise had died out a little, we decided to go late for Kali pujo in the nearby community centre. Our festive spirit was basically dampened when we had to step out into the smoke filled air, which is so characteristic of Diwali. Everything looked so gloomy and for the first time in my life I felt, that on such an auspicious occasion, there was nothing to celebrate at all. What should one celebrate? The roads were in a sorry state- the streets looked like they had been ravaged by terrorists, the dogs were running around wildly, the environment was successfully polluted. So, really, what was everybody celebrating?

Not finding a suitable answer, i decided to make the most of the situation. I tucked into the Kali pujo bhog! I was having maanksho bhaat after ages! At least I had found a reason to celebrate! :)