Pura Puchi

Cool!

2011-10-15T02:29:00.002+05:30

A lot of people think of Christians as lemon-sucking people, who have these long “thou-shall-not” lists and are seen as dull and “uncool” people. And even many Christians share the same opinion. A lot of us think that becoming “Godly” or “spiritual” will make us boring and snuff out the fun things in our life. Even I used to think so. But not any more.

The way I see it, the “cool” quotient is attached to things that blow our minds. Someone that inspires and impresses us. It could be a monumental architectural wonder. A new scientific discovery. A fashion designer. A singer. An artist. A dancer. A composer. Lady Gaga. Bono. Wael Ghonim. Nadal. Oprah. The list can go on.

So, how can we, the people who believe in a God that has created every single thing that exists – great and small - be such uninspiring and lackluster people, when we have access to the COOLEST OF ALL COOL – GOD! I mean he is everything. His “résumé” is incomparable and unmatchable!

Remember that HE is the ultimate scientist-engineer-architect who created such a wondrous and detailed system of the world and the DNA and the human body and its functions. From the nanoparticles to the sun; from the way our hands works to how the season changes, everything has its purpose. Even now the world’s best scientists cannot explain the workings, secrets and mysteries of a single cell. And only He knows everything.

HE is the ultimate fashion designer, who created colours, fabrics, shades, etc. It’s amazing how He has “colour blocked” on a single leave with hues of green, orange, purple and yellow. And the colour pink is not just one colour. It has hundreds of shades and variations.

HE is the most awesome musician and composer that gave sounds, melody and tunes to everything around us. Rustling leaves. Chirping birds. Gurgling water. Whistling winds. Musical notes and pitches. It’s amazing.

HE is the undisputed master chef who created all the wonderful flavours and spices and cuisines. Sour. Sweet. Salty. Spicy. Bitter. It’s mind-blowing. And then he gave us taste buds to enjoy all these things.

HE is the Creative Director of all Creative Directors with just how everything is purposefully and wonderfully given its place and purpose. Like how the sun rises and sets. How the night changes into day. How the seasons change.

HE is the Master of everything. So, if we can get inspired by other people and things around us, then why can’t live an extraordinarily inspirational life for HIM given by HIM.

And when God inspires, the result is catalytic, where we become inspirational, encouraging and an example to others. And great things will happen in small and big ways.

I cannot even fathom or put my head around on how HE did, does and will keep doing so. But I am so overwhelmed by HIS glory. And knowing this truth, I just want to live my life glorifying HIM in everything I do. Living my life to its fullest potential that HE intended. God is so COOL!

It's been a long time...

2011-08-18T12:31:00.002+05:30

Gawd! I have not written in a long time. And it's not because I had nothing to say or had no time or no internet connection. I just felt too overwhelmed. Sounds weak but I have been. With just too many things in my life. The good. The bad. The ugly. The beautiful.

I am back in Delhi and I have had quite the crazy 7-months here. It's hard to adjust to Delhi and her aggression, apathy and atrocities. I have had many incidents but there are four that really stands out and shook me up.

1) Three guys on a bike tried to snatch my phone. But I fought back and they fled. Plus there was a security guard who saw this but did nothing. It was 6:00pm

2) Witnessed a mother and daughter get molested in front of me when trying to get an auto to head to work. The same man tried to molest me but I thwarted his hand away. The three of us tried to apprehend him but a group of men just said, "why are you making a big deal out of it...it happens everyday...you should just let it go...you guys didn't get hurt..." That perverted man got away. It was 9:15am. Rush hour. Lots of witnesses but no one did anything.

3) I slapped a man who touched me in the middle of the road around 3:00pm. My brother was with me when this happened.

4) Last night, as I was going home in an auto, a car with three men followed me. Taunting at me. They even tried to stop the auto. But luckily I reached home safely. But at one point we had to stop at a red light, and even though others could see that I was being harassed, nobody did anything to stop those men.

5) When I narrated some of these incidents to some of friends, a guy friend of mine said, "Well, maybe you should just avoid these kinds of places." That really shocked me because here was this person who was a son, brother, husband and a father to a daughter and he thought that I should avoid these kind of "situations".

All these things have angered me and frustrated me and I have shed a few tears over it. But I am not backing down. In fact, I am more gung-ho to change things around me and especially with people around me. :)

Appa's Surprise

2010-09-27T13:24:00.006+05:30

The other day I was typing for my appa. We were both engrossed in our work when appa suddenly got up, walked out of the room and disappeared. After a while he walked back into the room with his hands behind his back, and gave me this expectant smile. He said, "I got something for you." And then he gave me this bar of chocolate. I melted. I love my appa!

Heartquake

2010-09-14T20:08:00.008+05:30

You know how to tickle my heart
Making me smile silly smiles again
You know how to make me blush
Making my face red and even my ears warm
That until now I didn't know love could explode behind the ears
You know how to keep a cool face
But I can still smell the jealousy
And that’s what makes you cute
I can no longer organise my feelings
Because you have thrown them astray
My heart quakes

Sisters

2010-08-28T21:50:00.004+05:30

It’s not easy having a sister or being one especially when you and your sister are so different. We even look physically different. My little sister is taller, smaller and an introvert. Then there is me: shorter than average, chubby and an extrovert. I am not afraid to voice my opinions and she tends not to say anything. I have a loud voice and she has a quiet one. I have been living away from home since I was 7 and she has never been away from home in her 22 years of existence. She can deal better with compliments and I can deal better with criticisms. I don’t like keeping my emotions bottled up whereas she keeps them tightly bottled up. I am brusque while she is gentle. I am restless and she likes her routines. I can’t get up in the morning and she can’t stay up late. And these differences have become stark after 19 years of growing up separately.

Honestly, if we weren’t sisters then I don’t think we could be friends. We would not be able to connect on a lot of levels – fashion, music, opinions, career, etc. I don’t remember us ever having a sisterly or even a girly one-on-one talk about crushes, heartbreaks, dreams, doubts or Brad Pitt. And how can two healthy females not talk about him! There has to be something wrong between us for that to happen. And there is. We still sleep on the same bed but we know nothing about each other's life. From the serious things like 'what do you want to do in life' to the inane things like 'when was your last shoe purchase", we never REALLY talk.

Of course, we do have our moments but I want more. I want everyday to be a giggly, clothes-borrowing, secret-telling, dream-sharing event. After all you can't just get a sister over the counter. I really want to communicate and know more than just her blood type, birthday and menstrual cycle. I don’t only want to be a sister but I also want to be a friend. So, I guess as the older sister I have to take the first few steps.

Meet Alfie

2010-08-23T21:51:00.004+05:30

The only one-of-its-kind in the world and that's because I stitched him up for my mom. He is kinda ugly and asymmetrical and rough around the edges (I suck at stitching). But therein lies his charm. He is cute because of his abnormality and eclecticist - part soap dish, part cotton, part cloth. I hope you will love him like my mom has grown to after getting over her initial fits of laughter.

Blessed

2010-08-03T12:21:00.004+05:30

A lot of times, it takes another person to point out things that you take for granted. Things that seem so mundane and ordinary but are actually really precious and extraordinary.

I was on the phone with a friend and he asked me what I did last night. So I told him that I spent last night inside my parent's bed - all cosy and warm - listening to my dad tell stories with my mom, sister and brothers. Then my friend said to me, "Wow, your family is really close". And I said, "What? What do you mean?"He replied, "I mean you guys seem to love each other and to spend time together. I don't remember the last time my family did that."

Then it really hit me just how blessed I was to have a family that really loves each other. My brothers still kiss me on my cheeks. Luckily (or unfortunately) they never went through a phase where they thought kissing or hugging their sisters were uncool. Rather my sister and I used to run away from their affectionate onslaughts. My parents still let us snuggle into their warmth, even though they protest especially to our cold feet. My dad still needs to be hugged before he falls asleep. There is still a fierce sibling rivalry for food. There is still a need to run to our parents and complain about my brothers. And in the end, we still love to gather in a big, warm bed basking in each other's love.

Home - not so sweet!

2010-07-29T14:59:00.007+05:30

So, I finally did two months ago. And by that, I mean putting in my papers and taking my sabbatical from my fast, hectic, crazy world of work. At that time the notion of home was warm, friendly, familiar. It was so nostalgic that I was really excited to come home and spend time with my family and get to know my culture better. But reality is a PMSing amazonian bitch.

Don't get me wrong. I love my family but you know how families function and dysfunction. Trying to fit in after being away for a long time is not so easy. Trying to find a flow can have many awkward moments and misunderstandings. You see, I have been in boarding since I was seven years old. After 11 years of boarding school, I went directly to college and straight into another hostel. Then I did PG Diploma and stayed in yet another hostel. Then I started to work and lived on my own for nearly 3 years before sharing an apartment with two other friends. So, for my 19 years of existence, I have learned and adapted to an independent lifestyle where "I" becomes a necessity. A survival technique. And when "I" meets the "We", things can pretty intense. I thought I was prepared for the "culture shock", but I clearly was not. And is not too.

I know parents love us and want the best for us but sometimes they also need to let go. I don't mind listening and trying to learn new things. There is always room for improvement and I know that I have a lot of space to spare, but they also need to know what they can store in that space. Everything and anything can't come in. Things need to be processed. I know that I am living in their house and there are house rules to follow like in any other houses. But they also need to learn how to adjust. I am trying to adjust to a new and healthier lifestyle, like waking up at 6:00am, but they also need to give my body's internal clock time to adjust. I need time to adjust. A few days is not enough to adapt to a whole new and different world.

In Delhi, I would sleep around 2:00 am and wake up around 7:30 or 8:00 am. Because a lot of times, my work schedule dictated that kind of routine. It's not healthy but to also force my body to wake up with only four hours of sleep is not healthy too. The other day I woke up at 7:00 am. I thought that was pretty good but everyone was already awake by 6:00am. Plus it did not help that there were some morning guests who had come to meet my parents. So, I got scolded for my "bad habits" of sleeping in late and then that went on to other topics like "not knowing your culture", "not knowing how to cook", etc.

I can clean. Can cook. But I am not the domestic kind who is happy to be busy with household chores the whole day. I need to do something else. Something more. And that is the hardest thing that I am facing right now. Especially when you are idle the whole day and you are used to a lifestyle where you are always churning out ideas and racing to meet deadlines. You are always on the move - mentally and physically. So, at the end of the day I am not tired, but rather restless. Wanting to do something. Create something. Anything.

I know I am sounding like an immature brat. A shrew. A workaholic with withdrawal symptoms. A self-centered person. I know I have gone all over the place with my ranting but at the end, I still love my family and I don't regret coming home at the end of the day (or so I keeping tell myself or else I might kill myself). Home is not romantic. It's chaotic. Frustrating. Suffocating. Adjusting. Giving a lot. It's really tough. But it's home and you know know what they say, there's no place like "home".

Nearly got molested. Again and again and again...

2010-06-07T18:54:00.005+05:30

Yesterday I nearly got molested in a shop. And sadly this is not the first time I have been sexually assaulted. I have had men sneak up behind me while they were masturbating. I have sat in an auto with a friend where the autowala was jacking off. I was once surrounded by boys who had stopped their car beside me and tried to get me inside the car. And right now I am so angry and tired and just plain disgusted. Why are men here so perverted and why can't I enjoy one day where I am not verbally, physically and emotionally violated!

Yesterday's incident made me so helpless. I knew what that man was trying to do as he tried to corner me, touch me and repeatedly tried to lure me back into the dark corners of his shop, but I was so shocked that all I could do was shout at him and warn him. Now I wish I had physically injured him. Actually I wish I had castrated him.

No matter how long I have lived here in Delhi and have learned ways to avoid and ignore such abuses, I am still not immune to them. Over the last eight years I have had to become more vocal and aggressive while dealing with men, but inside I still get scared.

I never call an electrician or plumber when I am home alone. I never take calls from unknown numbers. I never get friendly with male colleagues until I know for sure that they are nice, decent guys. I carry a pepper spray in my bag. I have learned a few self defense moves. But no matter what or how many precautions I take, I can never forget that I am still a woman and I can never ever let my guard down. Or else what happened yesterday might happen. And the next time I might not be so lucky like I have been in the past.

An old short story I wrote a long time ago and recently found

2010-06-01T00:35:00.004+05:30

The sun rises over the horizon, slowly warming the damp earth and waking her from her slumber. The land is bursting with different shades and combinations of green and brown, speckled with tiny reds, oranges and blues. An entourage of Ambassador cars drives through the Western Ghats as the Nethravathi river meanders along the way. As the river gushes along, the green hills of Kadri reveberates with the cars' purring, startling chattering birds and squabbling monkeys. Along the way a yellow road sign indicates that the Dharamsthala is only a kilometre away. An hour and a half journey is about the come to an end.

The passengers sitting inside the cars are ordinary looking middle-aged men with methodical eyes. They wear starched pressed suits with white shirts and are lost in their own thoughts. They know that they have gone over the facts and figures countless of times, but don't want to leave anything to chance. As the Manjunatheswara temple comes into view, the men sit up and adjust themselves. The cars stop outside the temple gate and the men step out. The temple's grand wall and intricate designs guard and exalt Lord Manjunatha.

The men cross the threshold and make their way across the enormous courtyard seeking the golden lingam. Whispering prayers and footsteps of devotees enhance the serenity of this sacred place. It is a world that defies all logic and laws of what they, as scientists, have adhered to for so many years. Formulas and axioms make sense to them but they also acknowledge a force beyond their scientific comprehensions.

The men take off their shoes and walk up the step toward the priests who are waving incense sticks, chanting and expecting them. The sounds of bells resound with the faith of the devotees. With bowed heads, pressed hands and bare feet, the scientists approach the saffron cladded men, who will sanctify their venture. They solemnly place their offering at the foot of the Lord Manjunatheswara's statue, seeking his divine blessings. With a miniature model of a satellite in its rightful place, the rites begin.

The scientists adhere to age-old traditions and exchange their formal attires for simplicity by removing excess layers of clothes. Thousands of kilometres away, men in a flight control room put on their earphones and talk into their microphones. Men in two different worlds do their own rituals to launch a satellite into space - some with their technology and some with their prayers.

As the priests start the puja and chant in their trance-like baritone voices, simultaneously crisp voices crackle in the air. Ancient vedic text and scientific jargons harmonise in a chorus. Sterilised voices repeat cryptic codes of aerospace. The puja intensifies its pace and a static voice commands a countdown. When the countdown nears to an end, the head priest pours ghee over the ceremonial fire, provoking red, blue and white flames into the heavens. The blaze then changes into an inferno of a rocket as it propels upward like a shooting star. As it goes further up and slowly disappears into the stratosphere, the men fold and raise their hands to a pranam to the celestial being who blessed their venture.

I Just Shouldn't Cook

2010-03-16T17:39:00.020+05:30

People who know me know that I don't like cooking. It's not like I can't cook to save my life but I just don't like cooking. It stresses me out. So when I do cook, I do it in a very haphazard manner. I don't really put much thought or effort into it. It could be pasta and tomato soup. Or Christmas maggie (masala maggie, sweet corn vegetable soup, tomato, spinach, beef and egg). My cooking modus operandi is whatever ingredients I lay my hands on goes into the cooking pot (I also usually use only one cooking pot to cook everything because I also hate washing utensils. Yes, I am lazy).

Anyway, what I wanted to tell you is about the dinner I made last night. Like all the meals that I cook, I wanted to cook something that was quick and effortless. So, I grabbed the soup packet and some vegetables - beetroot, cabbage and carrots. Chop, chop, snip, snip, stir, stir, simmer, simmer. I went away to freshen up and when I came back after a few minutes, I was shocked to see this.

For a minute I thought a lizard had fallen inside and died, spilling its blood in my dinner. But luckily the reason was not as gruesome as it indicated. It was the beetroot! Phew.

This has to be one of the most disgusting and unappetising meal ever prepared. No sane person would eat this…except me. Hahahah! I ate two bowls of it but without really looking at it. It really wasn't bad once you got past the look of it. :-P

Whoa, Man!

2010-03-11T10:45:00.002+05:30

Yesterday as I was sipping my first cup of coffee in office with some of my girlfriends, one of my male colleagues came up to me as said, “Congrats, man. You guys must be so happy about the Women’s Reservation Bill. It must be awesome for feminists like you guys.”

My smile disappeared. My twisted lips uttered “eh”. Then my words finally came out. “I hate it when people call us feminists. Just because we want basic rights, don’t want to be harassed by men and want a voice, how does it make us feminists? Why am I a feminist?”

So he said, “No, I meant that you guys are independent and you know…sorry I didn’t mean it that way.” Poor chap, I didn’t mean to sound angry. I was honestly more curious but my mannerism after being in Delhi for more than eight years (will talk about it some other time) is brusque. Anyway, I did say thanks to him for the sweet gesture.

This started a conversation around the table over coffee and cigarettes. Luckily for us, we are mostly surrounded by men who respect women and supported the Women’s Reservation Bill but there were still some skepticism about it. Like will the women representatives be capable? What if it’s just nominal power? Will they really work for the betterment of the society? Why does India need reservation quotas? If women think they are equal then why do they need special treatment?

I think it is an historic moment. It still needs to be approved in the Lok Sabha and the implementation is going to be a tough task but it’s a start. There are risks involved but its potentiality cannot be ignored. And yes, we needed this 108th constitutional amendment not only as a political and economical leverage but also more importantly, as a social one. We need this leverage for equality because we are regarded as innately inferior. It’s a necessity and not a special treatment because we still live in a world that is, sadly, unfair to women and girls. Millions of women across the country find themselves excluded from opportunities, vulnerable to exploitation and denied recognition. But it cannot be denied that these same neglected women are the ones who form the backbone of the informal sectors, households and society.

So, whatever misgivings there are about this bill, the biggest misgiving is the failure of politicians and people to realise and acknowledge a woman’s potential.

Alone

2010-03-08T11:37:00.002+05:30

I am bored.
Unmotivated.
Indifferent.
Weary.
Of you.
Of everyone.
I don’t have the patience to bear with you.
To hear you out.
Your stories.
Your guilt.
Your troubles.
I am sick of it all.
I want to get far away from all this.
I just want to be left alone.
By you.
My loneliness comes from you.
Your absence makes me aware when I am left alone.
Behind.
Neglected.
If I go far away from you then I won’t feel this emptiness.
Give me back my solitude.
Leave me alone.

India Hockey Team hwaiting!!

2010-03-05T14:12:00.003+05:30

Last night I went for the India vs. Spain hockey match. And yes, India lost 5-2. But that is not the point. What got me so sad and mad was how the crowd was so easily discouraged and discouraging. There were still a few minutes left before the game ended and there was no way India could catch up unless something miraculous happened like the ghost of past hockey legends possessing the bodies of the Indian hockey players and scoring 4 goals in less than three minutes. The stadium grew quieter and people started leaving even before the game ended. That must have been so painful to the players who were playing so hard. They might not have been in their best form but they did go into the field to give their all and win. Having played sports in school, I know that the worst thing you can do to a team is to abandon them. It is the most discouraging feeling when you see your supporters leaving the game. No matter what, supporting till the end can really make a difference. Even when you lose you don’t feel like you lost everything. So, there I was in the stadium screaming my lungs out and not giving a damn about people staring at me. India Hockey Team hwaiting!!

cofFEE

2010-02-25T21:08:00.006+05:30

I just realised that coffee is very expensive. It really is. I even have an equation to prove it to you. Yes, mathematically.

Work + Work + More work + Late nights – Sleep + Difficult clients x Tight deadlines – Friends – Family + Angry Boss x Stress + Pimples x PMS - Raise = Coffee

* Drinking my 12th cup of coffee at work *

To a Tea

2010-02-23T19:25:00.022+05:30

So, what happens when you work hard, have no life, run dry of ideas and whatever ideas you put out there just shrivels up and dies? You feel like shit! Hahahaa! So, I decided to have fun with some of the ideas and give them some life. Here is one of them (after more than one year of just sitting and gathering dust and cobwebs in my folder)! :-P

It Just Cracks Me Up!

2009-11-24T10:33:00.006+05:30

I love chibi! It always cracks me up and this one has been cracking me up for some time. It's not much but I just love it.

Love Smiles

2009-10-27T13:36:00.003+05:30

I gushed. I curled my toes with giddiness. I felt my blood rush up to my cheeks. I squealed. My eyes twinkled. First and last love. That is the power of love. No, I am not in love but I am a big believer of love. I love love.

My little cousin is in love and she is glowing. As I listened to her bashful narration of her first love story, everything seems so pure and enchanting. Her guy seems so perfect and they seem so perfect for each other. The innocence. The trust. The strength. The honesty. The promise. It’s a magical time and my heart hugged itself and let out a huge OMG-So-Cute-OMG sigh. I smiled for them and for all the other first loves around the world.

Then yesterday my friend told me that she was engaged. I smiled but then my smile quickly turned into a huge excited laugh and scream. We even did little mini jumps while hugging each other. I Oohed, Aahed and OMGed when she told me how her fiancé had been planning to ask her for the last one year; when she showed me the heirloom ring that sat so prettily on her fingers; when she told me how weird and nervous he was before asking her. My heart at that moment was doing crazy Olympic-gold worthy gymnastic moves. And I also smiled for them and for all the veteran loves.

Vague and Stupid and Illogical

2009-10-21T11:34:00.003+05:30

God. He may seem irrelevant and out of place in the world that we live today. With new-age gurus, best-selling self-help books, over-medicated therapy and too many accommodating world-views. With magazines and VH1 images that control our lives and wants and ambitions. With Hollywood bodies and sex lives that we are fascinated and compare with. God seems to be lost in all. He seems old-fashioned. A legend. A myth. Or even a conspiracy theory. And for some he is non-existent. But for me, God exists. He is a living God and I totally believe in him. Does that make me old-fashioned? Weird? Brainwashed? Naïve? Fanatical? It is an uncomfortable subject. Religion has always been a sensitive and war-faring subject. But no matter what people say about me or label me as, I cannot deny that I need God and that I totally and irrevocably believe in him. At this point I am a little scared and uncomfortable because there are lots of things that I don’t have answers to. Never-ending arguments about God and his ‘mysterious’ ways. Why does He let people die? Why does He let good people get hurt? Where was He when I was in agony? What does He want from me? How can He let innocent children suffer at the hands of pedophiles? How can He justify himself when it is because of religion that the world is in such a fucking mess? If He is the Almighty One then why doesn’t He stop all this shit? Where is the proof that He really does exist? I don’t know and I don’t have any concrete answers or proofs. But that still does not discourage me from trusting and trying to be faithful to Him. I have a long way to go and there is going to be a lot of backlash and questions, but I will never regret this decision. All this may sound vague and stupid and illogical. But this is my starting point. And like everyone else’s starting point, it is still yet to be defined.

Live

2009-09-09T12:46:00.009+05:30

You punish yourself

Not letting go

Of your mistakes, anger, regrets and what-ifs

You think happiness is not a possibility for you

You used to curse god

Now you don’t believe in one

You think life is unfair

You’ve forgotten how to count your blessings

And spend way too much time thinking of your misfortunes

You think you are damaged

Too damaged to be repaired

Too damaged to hope

You’ve given up on yourself

After all the pain caused to you and by you

You feel you don’t deserve to live

That your sins are too many

Too burdensome and condemning

You don’t want to continue living like this

But I ask you

To live

Because sins can only be atoned while you are alive

So please stay alive

And The Hunter Became The Hunted

2009-08-31T13:22:00.005+05:30

I had one month and within that time period anything could happen. And I was ready for it. Or so I thought, given the fact that this would be my fifth one in four years. But house hunting is a toughie even for a veteran like me. I still get shocked, frustrated and amused at life’s idiosyncrasies and prejudices.

Are You Veg Ya Non-Veg: Yes, I got rejected because I am meat eater. I understand and no offence to vegetarians, but I found this one very amusing.

Aisa Log Ko Nahin Chahiye: This is something I get all the time and still have a hard time getting used to it. Getting rejected because I am a ‘chinky’ (I hate this word) is something that I have come to tolerate. Initially it used to bother and hurt me a lot. But now I just shrug my shoulders and say thank-you to landlords if they have not shut the door on my face by now. I don’t blame them but it still gets to me on my worst days.

Annoying Dealers: After getting the news that our house would be vacated by the end of the month, the property dealers viciously pounced on us. I understand that they need to scout out for new properties and so on, but what I hate is their crude mannerisms. I hate the way they just come unannounced to the house and bang rudely on the door. Even at 8:00 in the morning! Now that is just plain harassment! Or the way they demand that you give them your landlord’s details. Or their audacity to think that they have the right to look around the house anytime they want even after 9 pm. I used to get intimidated before but now I firmly tell them off with my half-ass Hindi. Hahah! At least I get to practice my much-improved Hindi.

Weird Landlords: I met this landlord who had an extra key to the house because he wanted to be able to come in the house anytime he wanted and check on us. He said that sometimes he might just come in at night - around 11 pm - to see that we are not up to anything suspicious. As if! I found him highly suspicious and creepy. Brrrr! And there was another landlord who had this rule that no one could get out or in the house after 9 pm because he would lock the main gate. I told him that my work hours were irregular and that there have been, and will be, times when I would come home after 12 am. And his reply was that decent girls should not be out that late. Hmmmm…I obviously will not be taking this house. Thank you very much.

Lots of Rules: No boys. No relatives. No overnight stays. No visitors after 7:30 pm. Parental visits only allowed after taking permission from the landlord. I found some of these rules very strange and strict. Or it could just be me but I highly doubt it.

But there were also some really nice people and houses. So, the world is still in balance. Thank god for that!

These Things Only Happen To Me

2009-08-25T19:43:00.010+05:30

Or so it seems because I have not heard of anyone else going through what I have. I am not a klutz but I have my moments. And when I do have them, they are quite epic ones. Here are just a few of those classic moments.

Incident Number 1: I was sitting on a rickshaw and was heading back to my college hostel. As I was about the reach the hostel gate, a camera crew outside the gate (no idea why they were there) distracted the rickshaw guy’s attention from the road. So I told him, “Bhaiya, please pay attention to the road or else we might have an accident.”

Just then the rickshaw banged against a parked auto. The impact made both of us lurch forward and to prevent myself from falling down I grabbed on to the first thing I could grab. And it just had to be my luck that it was the rickshaw guy’s ass. Can you believe it?!?

And to make things worse, there was a group of autowalas who saw the whole thing. So, we were subjected to further embarrassment with the inevitable catcalls. This included cheap hindi songs, whistles, innuendos and laughter. So I quickly paid him, ran inside the gate and washed my hands umpteen times.

Incident Number 2: This happened to me a few years back when my dog was sick and didn’t have much of an appetite. So, in order to get him to eat more, I sat next to him, patted him and cooed sweet words. As he was eating slowly, he suddenly sneezed. But that is not all that he did. He also let out a fart. And, that too, right on my face. Yes, a dog farted in my face. The ewwwwwwwww-ness of it all! And let me tell you that a dog's fart is really deadly because the only thing I can remember about my dog is his fart. Seriously! I can't even remember his name. Just the fart.

Incident Number 3: This one happened very recently (one month ago - July 26th to be exact). I was inside the airport waiting in line to book a radio taxi. I finally got one and headed out. I could see a lot of people waiting outside. As soon as the airport’s automatic, sliding glass doors opened, a man stopped me. He asked me, “radio taxi?” and I said, “yes”. He took my trolley and proceeded to walk. But as I started to follow him I was yanked back. And to my horror, I realised that my hair had gotten trapped between the doors. So, in front of everyone I had to quickly and clumsily free my hair.

Hahahaha. Hahhahaha!

Appa

2009-07-29T14:19:00.002+05:30

I saw him after a long time and suddenly he looked much older and frail. And when I hugged him, he also seemed smaller. That’s when it hit me that my dad has really aged. Till that moment my dad was this invincible being that could take on everything and everyone. But this time when I went home, I saw him for him – not as a superhero but the father he is to me.

He is still the same – stubborn, funny, very hardworking, intense, difficult, generous, honest, short-tempered, silly, intelligent and loving. But he gets tired faster. His ulcers give him pain. His feet need to be massaged because of diabetes. His blood pressure gives him these agonizing headaches that deprives him of his sleep.

But despite all that, he still has time to cook my favourite fish dish. He still has patience to listen to me. He still loves to make me laugh with his silly jokes. He never gets sick of narrating stories of me when I was a baby. He still gets worried if I come home after 6 pm. He still wishes that I would dress a bit more girly. And he still wakes up at 2 am to check that I am properly tucked into bed.

So on the last night as I tucked him to bed, he hugged me and told me not to go. He jokingly said that I should quit my job, come home, marry a guy from the nearby village and give him lots of grandchildren. We laughed. But it also made me realise that one day all this would just be a memory. That one day he won’t be there with me.

As my dad drifted off to sleep, he sleepily asked me to tell him a story. I hugged him tight and told him silly stories about my life away from him. He let out a sleepy laugh, kissed my forehead, told me that he was so happy that I was home and that I should come home more often. I told him that I would and stayed with him until his arms around me became limp and he started to snore.

Must Watch! Seriously!!!

2009-07-07T11:23:00.003+05:30

Sour, a Japanese band, perfects the YouTube video viral. In a few days this video will be everywhere, so watch it now. I also put another very cool video of theirs. After all it is Japanese creativity!

Songs That I Will Kill

2009-07-02T12:26:00.002+05:30

A fistful of mythical ghetto-wonderland soundscapes. High-pitched squeals, yearning falsetto choruses and dreamy synths. A sublime space-pop heaven, crystal-voiced goddess. These new sounds have been on repeat mode for me.

Bubblegum Love

2009-07-01T16:23:00.003+05:30

There was this boy
There was this girl
And everyday he would give her strawberry bubblegum
For she loved its sweetness
And he loved how it sweetened her breath
With that their love grew
It started out small
But it became bigger with each breath
And they were very happy in their own little bubble
As it took them up, up and up
Till they could no longer see the ground
But after a while they became too heavy
Weighing down their buoyancy
Until it finally burst
And all that was left was a faint scent of strawberry in the air

Nosebleed

2009-06-29T10:44:00.004+05:30

It’s official.
I can’t deny it any more.
And god knows how hard I have tried not to like him.
Yes, he is younger than me (ewwww).
He is such a pretty boy (double ewwww).
He is the leader of a boy band (yes, I know).
And, that too, a Korean one (I can see you rolling your eyes).
But he dances so F-I-N-E.
And this is where I stop listening to all my reasons.

*Looks at the picture and goes into a chibi-mode with a bloody nose*

In My Own Way

2009-06-23T15:43:00.007+05:30

Just because I don’t love you the way you want me to
Doesn’t mean I don’t love you
I don’t make breakfast for you every morning
Or call you everyday
Or surprise you with flowers
I don’t always say things you want to hear
But sometimes tell you things you don’t want to know
I don’t always put a smile on your face
Or like the same movies as you do
Or laugh at your jokes
Or always pick up the phone
And it's not because I don't want to
Or can't do it
I do want to
But in my own way

2009-06-18T10:39:00.004+05:30

I need to keep reminding myself to do this.
Especially with this person and that person.
Wish me luck.

Lovesick

2009-06-17T12:32:00.004+05:30

A strange but nice quote from a Korean movie + my weird drawing. Hahaha!

I Love You Too

2009-06-16T11:08:00.002+05:30

There is just so much I have to tell you.
A lot has happened and I am not sure where to start.
It has been so long since I have talked to you.
I have all sorts of stories to tell you.
Tales that have made me cringe, giggle, laugh, angry, happy, regret, reminiscence, sigh in relief, struggle…
And I know which ones will win your approval,
And on which ones we will have our differences.
But I know that you will listen to me and understand me.
And at the end of it, you won’t condemn me and love me less but more.
Much more than I deserve.
Much more than I can imagine.
More than I ever was and ever will be.

It's Good to Have Me Back!

2009-06-15T19:07:00.006+05:30

I am feeling giddy again. Something that I had not felt in a long time. Actually something that I had suppressed for a long time. People who have known me for a long time are telling me that they are starting to see glimpses of the old Me come back to life. And they happy and rooting for me as I find myself again. I don’t regret my past. Sure, I did a lot of stupid, immature and genuinely naive things, but I have also learnt a lot from them. I know that I have my own issues and faults but I have come a long way and know how to deal with them. I have made peace with a lot of things and now I am really ready to live life for my own sake. Not for anyone else. But on my own terms and conditions. I won’t be held back because others can’t move on. I am moving forward and it is so liberating and euphoric. I am so excited about life. I can feel my form getting back into shape. I am laughing hard. I am meeting so many exciting people. I am getting back in touch with old forgotten friends. I am dancing again. I am accepting more invitations. I am just so much happier. That’s because I can be myself again.

Back To You

2009-05-27T19:33:00.005+05:30

Something always brings me back to you
It never takes long
It could be a small sigh
Or a big laughter from the guts
It could be a word
or a just a photo
It could be a person
or an old, crumbled paper
It could be anything
And everything
Sometimes it's really fast
And sometimes it takes longer
But something will always bring me back to you

We are Spoiled Idiots

2009-05-26T09:25:00.004+05:30

"We live in an amazing, amazing world and it is wasted on the crappiest generation of just spoiled idiots." This guy is hi-larious! Just listen to him and you'll agree to what he says.

Liquidators Preview

2009-05-22T11:10:00.003+05:30

The Nagaheadhunters are back with another self-made film - Liquidators. And I personally can't wait to watch it. Enjoy the preview.

This is Sick

2009-05-09T15:36:00.002+05:30

I can’t sing and I wish I could especially when I listen to some of my favourite songs. But more than singing, I wish I could beatbox. I have tried but I spit more than producing any sound - I sound like a goat with a really bad cold. So while I was looking for some beatboxing tutorials I came across this guy. And, man, is he good. His vocal percussions are impressive. Just listen to him use them. It seems like he has a speaker in his throat.

Get Cape. Wear Cape. Fly

2009-05-04T10:17:00.002+05:30

I have another new favourite. It’s Get Cape. Wear Cape. Fly’s Moving Forward. If you have already heard of them then I must say that you have great taste in music. And if you have not heard of them then I must recommend them to you. I love the words (and that’s a big thing since I am not a lyrics person). There is no MV for this song but I found this fan-made one. I think the lyrics are a bit off so I put another set of lyrics below.

I'm wide, I'm wide awake at night
And my mind's preoccupied and the silence won't reside
Or resolve the feelings that exist because it's easy to dismiss
And it's harder to get hurt

And I wish that I was stronger than the people that you meet
And I wish that you were lost without me
And though the more I think about it the easier it seems
I'll be just fine so here's to moving forward

Were we made as corresponding shapes?
Our two pieces tassellate
Were we designed to fit as one?
And it is with patience that I wait
as these romantic notions take my dignity and tact

And I wish that I was stronger than the people that you meet
And I wish that you were lost without me
And though the more I think about it the easier it seems
I'll be just fine so here's to moving forward

And as the sun sets on this now
You'll be the one I thought about
And as the sun sets on this now
You'll be the one I thought about

And I wish that I was stronger than the people that you meet
And I wish that you were lost without me
And though the more I think about it the easier it seems
I'll be just fine so here's to moving forward

Eye Love

2009-04-24T18:25:00.008+05:30

(I look cockeyed!)
My eyes are different and I mean different. My left eye has a fold and my right eye has no fold - it’s like a little slit on my full face. Yes, I am fully aware of cosmetic procedures and sticking thin strips of cello-tape over the eyelids to create the fold, but I choose not to make my face more symmetrical. Other than having a bit of a problem while putting eyeliner, my eyes are wonderful.

During college days, my eyes were a dead giveaway when I was sleep-deprived while studying for exams. That’s because my folded eye would become wider and the other eye would become narrower. It made me look funny and this would crack up my friends and I – a great stress buster.

They are also a conversation starter. If there is ever a situation where there is an uncomfortable silence hanging over us, all I need to day is, “Did you know that I have two different eyes? One has a fold and one doesn’t. Look”. And voila, people are suddenly scrutinizing them, talking about them and talking to each other.

Plus, they make people less conscious about their problem areas. They feel a bit more relieved knowing that their features are not so weird. It makes them more grateful that one of their legs are not shorter than the other or that at least they can lose weight whereas I have to live with this oddity. It’s amazing for self-esteem.

But what I love most about my eyes is that they are from my parents. My mom’s eyes have folds and my dad’s eyes are like my right eye – no folds. I wouldn’t change anything about my wonderful, odd eyes!

p.s. It’s totally ok to use my eyes as a conversation starter the next time you find yourself in a huge group in need of some talk.

Beyond J-pop and K-pop

2009-04-24T10:59:00.004+05:30

After listening to the obvious and commercially marketed music of Korea and Japan (and getting tired of them), I kept youtubing and googling. And, boy, did I find some really good bands - Sleepy.ab (Japanese) , Peterpan Complex (Korean) and Nell (Korean). The former two totally have a Radiohead influence in their music and they do it well. My favourite is Nell, a South Korean indie band. I can't stop listening to 'Good Night'. Do listen to them and if you have any new music, please share them with me.

Haha Haha

2009-04-22T19:41:00.008+05:30

Last month I was totally in love with U-Know of DBSK (a Korean boy band) after I saw him dance in Mirotic (it's one of their music videos). That's when my obsession with K-pop and J-pop started. So, I would google and youtube anything K-J-pop. I personally don't find bishounen hot other than in mangas (Natsume and Zero - I will save them for another day). They are too effeminate for me but U-known dances so F-I-N-E. So, that is when I came across this video. It has U-know (duh) and Mickey (DBSK) and I find it really kwi-yeo-un/kawaii!

p.s. U-know is the guy on the left.

It's Japanese

2009-04-22T18:55:00.006+05:30

It's a viral video contest for Lotte Gum. I don't get it but it's fascinating in a way that only Japanese can get away with! Enjoy the slow mo’ hair swings.

Heart Beirut

2009-04-21T13:36:00.003+05:30

This is one of my favourite songs at the moment. Beirut is awesome.

Thank You

2009-04-14T17:04:00.004+05:30

There are very few people, especially men, who have no ulterior motives but are honest, honourable incredible beings. And I have been very fortunate to have known such a person.

At first I didn’t understand him. His ways were strange. I don’t mean in a creepy way. In fact, he was one of the most charismatic people you would ever know. Everyone loved him. He was funny, thoughtful, confident, caring, intelligent, honest…He was the kind of guy who everyone thought was his or her best friend. He still is all of that.

But what I did not get was the way he treated women. And I will tell you why I found it strange. That’s because he did things that are so hard to find in men now days. The kind of things that men all over the world should be doing. He did things that we don’t ever think about. The kind of things that would humanize our differences rather estrange us.

The things he did for me unnerved me in the beginning. What I did not understand irritated me a lot. I could not accept his magnanimous gestures. I wasn’t used to a guy who was actually concerned about me. Don’t get me wrong. I have a great life filled with people who love and respect me but as a woman, having to fight for so many things in life, it wasn’t easy to let someone take control of certain things. He did the kind of things that even the most hard-core feminists would love to have a man do for her but would never admit to it.

(Just because we fight for equal rights and so on doesn’t mean we hate men. We just have a lot of fights to fight and along the way we have somehow become defensive. We don’t want to be vulnerable but we are. And that’s the hard part to accept. So, when a guy really respects you and cares for you, you can’t help but be suspicious to a certain degree.)

As time went by, what I thought were old-fashioned notions became truths. I saw them in his actions. But the sad part is that I did not really appreciate all this until much later. So, I want to thank him for everything he did for me. Thank you.

Danger Smiles

2009-04-14T15:20:00.004+05:30

On This Week's Reject List

2009-04-01T19:12:00.006+05:30

My week in a picture (notice the shitty, yellow dot of hope)

The one who is on top of this list would have to be...me. Nothing seems to be going right for me. At work, all my ideas are getting bombed. It's like the bombing of Nagasaki, except this time it's Naga-sucky (I can't believe that I just made that very lame joke but I am absolutely mindfucked at the moment so I can away with it). Then I never seem to get an auto. For some reason, the first fifteen autos that I manage to halt down never want to go where I need to go. The sixteenth auto-wala reeks of alcohol and the seventeenth auto-wala will overcharge me by 52% but by then I am too tired to argue. By now I am totally exhausted and you think that sleep would come to me easily but that too evades me. And plus there are some other things that are kinda too personal to put it out there. But then life is not always unfair because it gives everyone an unequal amount of shitty deals. That's the only thing that is democratic about life being unfair. So, this is for the person who will topple me from the top of this list: Don't lose hope because someone else is unknowingly waiting in line to go through this. It's NOT you. It's just life.

The Force Is With Them

2009-03-30T17:08:00.007+05:30

They are called Naga Headhunters and they have made some cool Star Wars fan films. I really enjoyed watching them especially since none of the members have had any professional training or help in making any of their films. Plus you can see their passion in their detailed homemade costumes, script and acting. The force is with them.

I Need My Bra

2009-03-27T15:45:00.001+05:30

I believe in equal rights and freedom of speech and so on. But I don’t think I need to burn my bra or be a Samantha Jones to prove myself. The debate is old and I think we just need to accept that we are different. Men and women are different. We are wired differently. We are on different emotional levels. We can’t fight million of years of evolution. I also agree that we are physically the weaker sex. And I don’t think that by saying this I am being apologetic or regressive. Of course, we can be faster, stronger, smarter than men but at the end of it all we are still different. The way we think, react, laugh, confront, love, eat, gain weight, nurture life, orgasm, fake it, endure, fight back, make decisions… We are just different and I love it. I love being a woman despite all the shit that we get and have gotten. Sure, we have a long way to go but let’s not lose our femininity – it is the most powerful and amazing gift.

Strange, Eerie Dream

2009-03-25T17:27:00.001+05:30

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary… just joking (respect to Poe).

But I did have the strangest dream. I rarely have dreams and even if I do, I also rarely remember them. So, this dream is stuck in my head and it doesn’t help that it was creepy. I need to get it out of my head.

The dream was about this haunted tree that kills off all the children in the village except me. The reason for it being haunted was because of some ancestor's past life and cursed karma. Throughout the dream I keep running away from tree but it follows me through cross-pollination and psychic powers from beyond River Styx. It sounds like a really bad version of M. Night Shyamalan’s storylines. Anyway, it was just a dream and now it sounds really silly. Phew!

A Love Poem

2009-02-13T10:47:00.001+05:30

My heart is rumbling really loudly.
I’m not feeling hungry for your love.
I’m still digesting my last one.

Recycled Love Songs

2009-02-10T14:14:00.002+05:30

What used to be their love story in chords
Became ours
In tune and out of tune
It was ours
Our little inside joke
Our hints
Our secrets
Hidden dreams
Open declarations
It was ours to our forever
But the song came to an end
So, we pass it on
What was once ours
Now becomes yours
Until it must be passed on

Fluff, the Sleeping Dragon!

2009-02-06T10:57:00.001+05:30

I see a dragon
A nice one
Not the scary ones
Like the Norwegian Ridgeback
Or the Hungarian Horntail
But a fluffy one
But you know what they say
“Draco dormiens nunquam titillandus”
So I will just let it sleep

Putting a Name to a Face

2008-12-11T13:44:00.001+05:30

This used to be One-of-the-kids-who-sell-magazines
We met each other a few months ago
I was on my way to work in an auto
He was selling magazines
He approached me and tried to sell me a magazine
I shook my head and waited for the light to turn green
This was our routine
Everyday
From Monday to Friday
Around 10:00 am in the morning
Gradually we started to recognise each other
With little smiles
He was no longer just another faceless little kid selling magazines
And I was no longer just another customer who ignored him
Today I could finally put a name to the face
This is Pankaj
And he is 14 years old (or so he says)
That is all I know about him
For now

A little permanent reminder

2008-12-10T15:34:00.001+05:30

Like a new-born baby
I came out
Screaming
Struggling
Bloody and raw
Angry for being taken out
Confused without that familiar heartbeat
Scared with the new surroundings
Then it was cut
The umbilical cord
Severing all ties
Destroying all memories
Creating a lacuna
Leaving me with nothing
Except a scar
A little permanent reminder
That you were once the centre of my world

1000 Months

2008-12-08T18:04:00.001+05:30

I just realised that it's going to be nearly two years since I last wrote. That's a long time especially if the average lifespan of a person is about 1000 months. I have no idea how I managed to let 24 months go by without even realising it. A lot has happened - the good, the bad, the ugly and the uglier. Right now I just feel exhausted and awkward not knowing what to write or more like how to proceed. I have about 700 months left. Let's see what I do with them.

Bedraggled story

2006-12-19T18:03:00.001+05:30

I am still alive but one of these days I am going to kill the old man, the annoying-whiny children, the horny tomcat and the banging neighbours. I can’t go to sleep because for some strange reason this particular neighbour of mine starts some hammering job in the middle of the night. So you can imagine the throbbing in my head each time the hammer hits the nail on its head. Then I am woken up by this black cat that meows the whole night because it’s horny and needs to shed off his high level of frustrated testosterone. As my eye lids slowly droop down and from the cracks of my drowsiness I see dawn filtering through my curtains; just when I am about to submerge into my well-deserved sleep, I am woken up by this wrinkled, hunched–back man, with the most vicious temper - who starts off the day abusing his helpers and kicking them too. Then my old landlord decides to bang on his car to fix a dent. I live right above his garage, so every morning without fail he turns on his radio and listens to the 6:00 a.m news and does his share of talking loudly on the phone. So, the past few nights have been very annoying - waking up with puffy eyes and a nasty frown. Sigh! Oh and I forgot the kids. God, they drive me up the wall with their “mmmmuuuuummmmmmmyyyyyyyyyy” (note that it’s like playing the E string on the violin by an amateur or your finger nails across the blackboard). I am tired of getting out of the wrong side of the bed. Take pity on my bedraggled state of mind.

East of Eden pg.147

2006-09-14T16:47:00.000+05:30

“Our species is the only creative species, and it has only one creative instrument, the individual mind and spirit of a man. Nothing was ever created by two men. There are no good collaborations, whether in music, in art, in poetry, in mathematics, in philosophy. Once the miracle of creation has taken place, the group can build and extend it, but the group never invents anything. The preciousness lies in the lonely mind of man.
And this I believe: that the free, exploring mind of the individual human is the most valuable thing in the world. And this I would fight for: the freedom of the mind to take any direction it wishes, undirected. And this I must fight against: any idea, religion, or government which limits or destroys the individual. This is what I am and what I am about. I can understand why a system built on a pattern must try to destroy the free mind, for that is one thing which can by inspection destroy such a system. Surely I can understand this, and I hate it and I will fight against it to preserve the one thing that separates us from the uncreative beasts. If the glory can be killed, we are lost.”

Guilt

2006-09-14T16:37:00.001+05:30

“Guilt, for Poe, is “perverse,” and perverseness is the desire for self-destruction. It is completely indifferent to societal distinctions between right and wrong. “Guilt” is the inexplicable and inexorable desire to destroy oneself eo ipso.”

Mundane

2006-08-21T14:39:00.001+05:30

The mundanity of life gets to you. Lethargy seeps into your coffee as you mechanically stir your black oblivion manifested in your Monday morning wake-up drink. The procrastination creeps into the mounting mails that need to be replied to. The irritation scratches your peace of mind as the telephone ring incessantly jars your eardrums. Nothing seems to inspire you out of the routine pace of the dragging footsteps that have lost their initial excitement. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday. They are all the same. Days calculated in hours, hours in minutes and minutes in seconds. They all just tick the same thing. It is the resounding echo of the days that are passing by, moments that are being lost, and the lost opportunity of forgone dreams.

12th February

2006-08-17T18:50:00.001+05:30

I used to love this day of the year. It was more exciting than Christmas morning when I could let out a sigh of relief knowing that I had been in Santa’s good books. There is nothing like Christmas but there is a totally different anticipation when your birthday approaches. I used to look forward to my birthday. I am sure everyone did when they were young and without worries but I think the whole idea of birthdays change, as you grow old. Every kid loves that day, because that day you become the cynosure of all eyes. The most coveted piece of the cake was the big pink sugar rose that would make every kids salivate as you paraded around sucking it slowly. I remember once when my brother got a Nintendo Gameboy on my birthday. I was devastated. My brand-new “frock” with pink ribbons and lace, the big pink sugar rose on my cake and my presents did not interest me any more. All I could do was stare at that Nintendo that my brother was holding and playing Contra. I cried my little heart out until I could not resist cutting my cake and opening my presents. It used to be so easy to soothe one’s tears away with simple things like “My First” Barbie. But over the years nothing has really changed. Birthdays are still a day of anticipation but in a different way. It no longer has a child’s excitement. You realise you are getting older, and that things are not getting any simpler. Birthdays do get spoilt but it’s harder to wipe away the betrayal and tears. Why, I have nursed some of my friends’ heart on their birthdays because they got dumped or that nobody remembered their birthdays. There are no longer grape juice and innocent games of passing the parcel or musical chairs. It seems to be an excuse to get drunk so that you can forget the fact that you are getting closer to your first grey hair or the first wrinkle or both. Or so that you can bear some of the people in your party that you detest but had to invite them because of some random reason that made sense to invite them. Children are so easy to appease with some balloons, streamers and party hats that could make all the children play with each other but as you get older things get more complicated. There will definitely be at least three to four cliques in each corner of the room; there will be tepid conversations being dropped here and there. Nobody will arrive on time, and they would leave after freeloading on your drinks and food to go to another event. Even though you have worn all your new clothes and feel really good in them, that confidence will slowly deteriorate. Skinnier girls will fuss about how fat they are and then you start to feel really uncomfortable in your own skin and party. Sometimes I forget how old I am and I have to do some addition and subtraction in my head. When I was younger and some aunt or uncle would say, “So, you’re six now,” I would answer back in my most adult voice and correct them saying, “I am seven.” You would want to make your list as long as possible because that meant you would get more presents but there is now inverse relationship between the length of the list and your age. As you grow older you want your list to be as short as possible, with people that you actually want to be with and not because of some social etiquettes so that you don’t affront anyone. Birthdays are a day of mixed emotions, somewhere the little kid inside of you still love the whole notion of cakes, balloons and being the belle of the party. Maybe the next birthday I will do that. Make it an intimate affair and just do silly things and be uninhibited to celebrate how a birthday should be. To come in terms with another beginning and celebrate life.

Detoxify your mind

2006-08-17T18:34:00.001+05:30

Things inside your head seem so much bigger than they actually are. The thoughts that run in your head seem to be endless, the questions in your head seem to only get longer and confusing, the fears only seem to burrow more into the dark corners and the worries seem so heavy. The mind gets crowded with so much to think and worry and fear, that all that you hear are cacophonic voices in your head telling you different things. It gets congested inside that undiscovered realm of the body that utilizes only 2% of its capacity. The claustrophobic environment that your mind has to deal with makes it paralyzed and impotent to think clearly. There is too much of muck inside the crevices of your brain and the squalid environment decays the rationality of thought. All that you have kept hidden and forgotten seem to petrify your logic into doing something. But once you say or clear out your past in your head, things become clearer and calmer. Things that seemed so big inside that small space of your head are so much smaller and insignificant. Then you wonder why you made such a huge deal out of it. Why you held it inside of you so long. Why you did not tell anyone before. Once you hang everything outside and clear the attic up there, the congestion disappears and there is more room for sensible and happier thoughts. A big sigh of relief is exhaled. Things in life are not as big as we make them seem. Detoxify your mind with healthier and happier thoughts. All you need to do is clear out the things that you have stored up and have not used it in a long time. Get rid of thoughts that impend you from thinking forward. Wipe clean the worries that stump you in life. Kill the fears that paralyze you and find answers to the questions you always had.

Fat Girl

2006-08-04T16:28:00.001+05:30

The next time a woman, be it any of my girlfriends including me or even my grandma, asks if her ass is looking “huge,” I am going to tell her, “Yes, it so huge that your ass enters the room five minutes after you have entered the room.” If another frequently asked question of if her boobs are looking big, I am going to say, “Yes, you enter five minutes after your tits enter the room.” If I am faced with another question of if her boobs are sagging, I am going to say, “Yes, I think you can throw them over your shoulder like a regimental soldier.”
The obsession with ones body has infected everyone, every women of every size, colour, hair, height and smell. How have we come to be so concerned about such trivial matters in life when there are more important things in life that we have to be concerned about. The statistics of 34-24-34 seems to have more relevance in our lives than that of the statistics of victims of AIDS, sexual abuse, war, violence etc. the superficiality of the glossy magazines and the kind of life they portray seems to have more relevance and impact than that of the images of people dying or the world being torn apart by politics that has no heart and humanity left in its objective.
Everyone is a victim of narcissism, indulging in ones appearance. One has looked into a mirror and reflected on what they saw, finding flaws and torturing and wishing of how to get that body that they have always wanted. The incessant fixation on a body, an ephemeral body that’s just a covering for what is actually inside that matters have gained so much of prominence in the society that it is sickening.
People abuse their body and make themselves sick so to attain the body that they envy for. Every girl has a fat and a skinny girl inside her, where the skinny girl’s taunts can be so destructive. The mind of a girl, where she sees herself ten times more heavier than she is and where the skinny girl inside her ridicules and drives her to hate herself and to deprive of the joy in life for not being skinny. The maddening obsession to be skinny consumes you, that all you think is how ugly you are and how much more beautiful you would be if only you were skinnier. There is an inverse relationship, where the value of yourself goes up as you lose more of yourself. The less you weigh, the more beautiful you feel or yourself.
If it was that simple to kill the skinny girl in you that torments every living matter that you are made up of. Life would be so much simpler if we were not made to fit into a particular shape. If others were not so fixated on how you look from the back, front, left side, right side, top and any other angle that they can observe you from. Everyone is beautiful but there are so many who do not realize it and will never accept it. If only it was much simpler to appreciate and enhance the inner self and worth than obsessing on the ephemeral manifestation of man made statistics.

Brain Dead Nonsense

2006-08-04T11:51:00.001+05:30

I can’t seem to be up for anything. Time for me to sleep, to play with the reverie fairies or battle with the subconscious demons or float in a vacuum of restlessness. Exhausted but why I’m not sure. Day passes with not much yet I’m so weary. An empty weariness, wandering. Trying to pass my time and figure out what to do. Lost and bored. Nothing stimulating to immerse me into a torrid affair with it. Life seems so wasted but time will make up for all the moments that I have killed with nothingness. I will yearn for those moments and wish that I had utilized that time more efficiently. The luxury of doing nothing will be coveted. Pure rubbish. That is what I am talking about. Random thoughts going through my head and nothing to sustain them but these black and white words. What the fuck, I’m totally lost. I can’t even make a decision to make a stupid decision as to whether I should sleep or read my books. Oh, the dilemma of being young, to procrastinate and be bored. Being too precautious, too rational makes you lose out on life. Worrying about so many things can paralyze you, make you rationalize everything that you should do but you end up doing nothing. The little philosophies that I have in my life do nothing to inspire me at the moment and I wish that I could be inspired and just be non-rational sometimes. I worry about too may things or think about all the possible things that could happen and then I don’t execute anything and then nothing happens. Too many stratagems and no action. How pathetic. Too many restrictions on myself because of my stupid way of rationalizing things. I am rationality’s foe. I am brain dead and King of Leon lures me away from trying to rationalize anymore.

Dirty Gol Gappas

2006-08-04T11:31:00.001+05:30

Life definitely gives and takes. There is no doubt that one moment you have it all and the next moment you’re stripped naked and left vulnerable. Everyone that you meet will have some self-pitying, self-remorseful, life-changing experience that radically changed the way they saw, heard, tasted, smelt and touched life. Eventually everyone will have one, even those on their deathbed. Everyone has some regret in his or her life and that makes life more bearable because it makes everyone more human and relatable. The degree of pain, love, joy, struggle, betrayal etc are all the same but all at different times so that each one can feel their pain even though another can empathize with the emotional pendulum each person encounters in life. The paroxysm of emotional intensity that each one has to endure cannot be avoided. It can be delayed but it is imminent. Life sounds so clichéd at times because of the similar and familiar stories that we all have heard and can relate to but life has not lost its charm and is still inspirational and that’s because we have one lifetime to prove, gain, lose, laugh, being in love, being kicked in the balls, discovering great sex even at the age of 80, discovering your sexuality, losing friends, gaining family members, listening to great music, going bungee jumping, realising that the best listener is actually deaf, dealing with PMS, being bitten by a dog or biting a dog’s nose, being chased by a pig, having embarrassing moments, eating goat balls, swimming with carnivorous squids, relishing dirty gol gappas prepared by a vendor whose fingers might have just scratched his balls or dug his nose and the list goes on as to how undiscovered life’s spectrum can be. How vast life can actually be when you step out of the clichéd realm that you have surrounded yourself by. In the experience of one’s life there are countless things to do, imaginable and the unimaginable. We are so bounded by norms that impede our non-conformist and adventurous selves to break free. Maybe that’s why ordinary people can become extraordinary because they dare to indulge in life. How I envy such people who can truly experience more than I can. All I do now is wish and hope that someday I can truly venture out and taste, hear, see, smell and touch life in a different way.

Black Thoughts

2006-07-31T18:31:00.001+05:30

The impending feeling of sadness and lethargic aspirations slowly permeates your thoughts, making you doubt yourself. The premonition you can sense - the feeling of being consumed by bleak thoughts and despondency- engulfs you again. Makes you feel so hopeless and lifeless. All that seeps through you is that dejected feeling of defeat. Not being able to withstand the demeaning thoughts and voices in your head. The perpetual weltschmerz that you face and feel every moment; the quest to question all that existed and exists. Everything seems to be a lost cause and that is when you drown into a black pseudo-reality that takes hold of you. The happy thoughts and moments seem so far away. You strive so hard to hang on to your sanity and calm. You want to put everything right but that seems the hardest thing at the moment. Everyone knows this feeling but the degree varies according to your demons. The only thing to get you back is to think hard...a conscious effort to banish all pessimistic elements in your head, all negative lingering voices. To just concentrate real hard until it exhausts you, that all you want to do is sleep. Sleep, an escape until you are more rational to sort things out. To convince yourself that one day you will be ok, that you will love yourself one day. I just wish that someday was today.