Someday I will have my own home

Someday I will have my own home Not impeded by human contract In the gift of the universal expanse Constantly floating in a fixed plane Someday I will have my own home Unrestricted of permit and lease Of inhibition and toxic tumult With whiffs of pure freedom Someday I will have my own home Founded by dreams and yearnings Built with stardust and fairy light Where I would eternally belong

Not a poet, anymore

There was a flicker A spark I may Youth of mine Sparked thoughts Fluid, the motion The words flowed to die Where water and flame met Ashes of those Flowed, flown, forgotten Dimmer it got The words never dared For the spark was gone The umbrella I hold It still rains ash dust

NH10: Truth is scarier than Fiction

Today Team India lost to one of India's greatest supposed enemy, the Australian cricket team. Oh and the culprits, the villains who emerged behind this "shame" were MS Dhoni and Anushka Sharma. Sigh!

Dhoni, one of the most successful and respectable captains in the history of Indian cricket and a man of integrity and splendid sportsmanship was brought down by many as the reason that incites violence in the hearts of the 'blue-blooded' cricket fans. Because throwing stones and breaking walls of his property is a pretty legit reaction.

And the 'panauti' Anushka who was solely responsible for Kohli's dismissal and not the Australian bowler and fielder. Wow, this girl has some influence and magical powers to have it all in her to go ahead and piss off a billion people with just her presence. Brickbats, social media rampage, cruel jokes, cyberbullying, collective hatred is normal and definitely doesn't show any violent thought space.

But wait, her film NH10 (A) is TOO VIOLENT for I cannot go and see it with my kids. Just like every other film with the (A) certificate and content. That is what a good parent does, goes to see films with certified 'Adult' content with their kids and later complains how it was unsuitable for their precious little one.

Let us talk about NH10. Well, she is a hell of panauti in the film. Rural Badlands that most of us have had a chance to experience in some form of it are savage as thy ve been d.

People who disliked NH10 are the ones who would rather sit in Gold Class Lounge for Happy New Year and Hamshakals.
Acceptance of truth is a lost virtue. Second class citizenship of women has achieved new levels.

Decoding an Indian Wedding

The title says it all. I thought of doing an entire series of blogs. Then I realised what's the point? We guys know way too much about weddings already. The plannings, the rituals, the planning rituals. Especially us North Indians, we don't care who the president of the country is but we all know "phere par to yaar sirf gharwale hee hote hain!"

So to keep it short, this is the only blog page I will continue updating. Oh also, I am getting married within a month. I will whine and rant as well as share insights and experiences (even though nobody takes my advice seriously). When I won't be busy hyperventilating, I will be spreading some weddingy cheer here, my online wedding journal.

#3 Pre-wedding photography: I can't give you money, here is your exposure

The only thing I am thankful for in life is I have so many photographer friends. Nope they are not some punters with a DSLR but real professional photographers with real skill and talent. The thing I don't have is MONEY, to pay for my pre-wedding shoot. Hence, exploit! *evil laughter fills the bathroom*. They have often complained about clients saying things to them like "we cannot give you money but we'll give you exposure". I feel you bros! 

I am still trying to grasp the concept of a pre-wedding photoshoot. Though I have recently come across some really beautiful pre-wedding shoots with a lot of energy and joy yet something doesn't seem right. One of the partners always has that 'why me?' expression. It's like 'yes baby, of course I am having fun' yet *dying of embarrassment inside*. But then again, who am I to judge? Afterall, I am just a snarky cynical social media junkie. 

So while contemplating for my pre-wedding shoot decision, these were the different stages I went through:

Photos taken before wedding 
We have been dating for a few years now, and since we have lived in the same city and hung out with each other a lot, we have a million photos together, some natural, some super-posed and mostly selfies (obviously). So pre-wedding photography?

Confusion
Does it make sense to hire someone to take some cheesy "romantic" completely awkwardly Bollywood fairytale-ish posed photos of the 2 extremely weird people that we both are? Awkward, awkward, awkward.

Is it real? 
Where did the concept of a pre-wedding photo shoot come into being? Like a lot of other "western" nuptial traditions we have quietly adopted and Indianised, is this one of them? 

Let me Google
I tried to look for its origin online but didn't really find any intel on the whys and whats of PWP. There, however, used to be published engagement pictures over a century ago for engagement announcement in local newspapers. So it is a relatively new trend. Okay.

Should I?
If it is a new trend, and will continue for a while, will we as a couple, miss out on something very important if we do not participate? Tell me AM I MISSING OUT ON ANYTHING? TELL ME!

I am still trying to make up my mind, do we want this celebrated pre-wedding candied (is the spelling right?) photo shoot. But are we ready to sell our souls to pay for it? Or we just do this:

Awkward Vearmas are Awkward

#2 Marriage vs Wedding

Couple ya Coup?

"Aap meri marriage par zaroor aana! Apni poori family ke saath aana!"

*stomach begins to churn* *brain starts to burn* *the need to smash my head suddenly rises*

Marriage: (according to Google)
the legally or formally recognized union of two people of the different or same sex as partners in a relationship (though the only accepted communion in our country is of a man and a woman).

Wedding: (Yes, Google said it, don't look at me)

a marriage ceremony, especially considered as including the associated celebrations.

These 2 words often interchangeably used, but nope THEY ARE NOT THE SAME THING! ARGHHHH!

Okay. Now the question nobody asks themselves is whether they want to get married or do they just want a wedding. Because often than not nobody seems to see beyond the flower studded car. Correctly represented by the fade to black at the end of Uncle Studio wali shaadi ki CD when the doli departs from the venue. Rest becomes a mediocre, uninteresting, nobody-gives-a-shit-about-until-you-begin-breeding history.

Weddings are all about pretty things, family reunions, more reasons to hang out with friends and a whole experience full of warm, fuzzy and mixed feelings.
Marriage is real. It is up to me and him to either make it kick ass or let it fizzle out just the way we are constantly reminded it does. Wow just the kind of pep talk I need a few weeks prior!

I am also told that there is just one wedding day where I need to look my best. But what about the rest of the thousands of days of my married life? I know I cannot look my best on each day, hell I will look my worst in them too. Trust me, it is okay!

But for some reason I cannot bring myself to buckle down under this pressure. I do not wish to turn my wedding day into a beauty pageant. Did you know that these makeup type bigwigs charge a good 30-40 thousand rupees for a day's makeup. For real! Because they airbrush gold dust on your face and later serve you diamond fritters on a platinum platter to choke on.

Oh wait we do not have any of that 40 grand left. You know why? Because we bought the most comfortable mattress and bed with it and still had enough money remaining to take a trip to Dharamsala and back. And I will get to sleep on that comfy bed each day including the night of the wedding, obviously after having washed off that gold dust from my face. Yes that is marriage!

There I have my answer:

Marriage > Wedding

#1 The wedding lehenga

Bad pictures are epic!

So there is a wedding budget and then there is a wedding lehenga budget. We are Punjabi brides, we don't wear a saree on our wedding day. HOW DARE YOU?
I was asked to keep a lac and above separately only for the wedding lehenga. Or like they say for a North Indian bride, your wedding dress can be any colour as long it is red.

"How can you not spend (waste) a meagre 50k on the wedding lehenga?"
"What kind of a girl are you if you don't shell out an outrageous amount for your wedding dress?"
"No red or maroon lehenga????? Chheeee blasphemous! How can you even live with yourself?"

There were these few remarks and then there were saleswomen who would ask me to leave their store because I hadn't chosen a RED LEHENGA for MY own wedding!

True story:
Me: "Ye sab jewellery mein to maroon stones hain, can I have some other colour?"
Saleswomen: "Arrey red ke alawa aur kya hoga? Aapka lehenga bhi to red hain na."
Me: "Nahi actually, it is pink and ..."
Saleswoman: *shuts all jewellery boxes and turns away like I never existed*
Me: Forgive me lord for I have sinned!

Dare to take #TheRedDare?

If you have been browsing Facebook, Twitter and Instagram lately, I am sure you must have come across #TheRedDare. So did I! Now the obvious question was, what is #TheRedDare? 

I am here to tell you a little bit about this challenge. Dental hygiene is a very basic yet an important part of life. Yet most people tend to brush it off from their discussions, quite literally! So how do you start a conversation around dental hygiene? How do you make people understand its importance or the lack of it? I will tell you the problem with this approach, nobody likes to be told what to do especially when it comes to their personal space. 

Therefore, Dabur’s idea is brilliantly simple. Yes, #TheRedDare! #TheRedDare is a fun challenge by Dabur which delivers the message in a very subtle way. I was nominated by a friend on Twitter to take up the dare.

#TheRedDare Package

So to complete the dare, this is what you got to do: 

1. Send a WhatsApp message to +91 9910818814 to get your own #TheRedDare box 
2. Inside the box there will be 7 Dare Cards and a Dabur Red toothpaste 
3. You choose any number of dares out of the locations 
4. You film yourself BRUSHING YOUR TEETH using the toothpaste from the box in the unlikeliest of public places 
5. In the video you nominate 7 of your friends to take up #TheRedDare 

By the way, I have completed my #TheRedDare. I chose Dare #2 ‘Brush at a bus stop’. And here is the video of me actually brushing my teeth at a bus stop. The best thing about the dare was the people’s reactions when they saw me brushing. Now one doesn’t see too many people brushing their teeth in a public place. 

Check out the video to see it for yourself. 

If you want to take up the challenge, just WhatsApp on +91 9910818814 to get your own #TheRedDare box or just tweet to @DDC_India to know more. Trust me it was a lot of fun! Also, I have nominated 7 of my friends for the #TheRedDare on Twitter. 

Sajid Khan knows you’re a Dumbass!

If you're one of those, whose check-ins look like this:

"week end funn wit mah hubby - was watching Humshakals at DT Moronica Cineplex."

You should know that this genius director, brother of the director who *ehmmm* directed *coughs* Tees Maar Khan, is SAJID KHAN. And he already KNOWS that you're a dumbass! Do not be surprised. Your secret is out. He figured it out years ago.

Let me take you through his journey from Witty to Shitty. Over a decade ago, he hosted this unconventional, ground-breaking show on television 'Kehne Mein Kya Harz Hai'. The show was about him nitpicking on typical Bollywood formulas, over-acting or what he would laughingly refer to "Hamming" and his insanely hilarious critique on how our films and logic cannot see.

(hahahahahahaha classic!) 

Anyways, his wikipedia page reads: Khan is famous for making atypical cringe-worthy Bollywood movies.His movies are famous for illogic,racist,toilet humour which has a small but notable fan-base in india.

He knows that no matter you may be an IIT & IIM alumnus, you may be a globetrotter who gets dinner invitations from the likes of Dalai Lama and you own a mansion on Malabar Hill, you are still a Dumbass! 

After his television show ended, he completed his research in the 'Dumbassery of the Bollywood Audience'. This research empowered him with this unstoppable energy to dish out platters of crap with every "comedy" "film" he releases. He knows you will enjoy all the toilet humour, sexism, racism, illogical plot lines, irrelevant characters, vulgar dance moves and aged actors peeking into barely there skirts. Other filmmakers take the audience's brains for granted, but Sajid Khan tailors his magnum opuses to suit your undying stupidity. 

His films do well because you are a dumbass. And you are a dumbass, that's why he makes them. Oh bura laga? Arrey kehne mein kya harz?

What Perfect World?

Where is the world that we thought existed in the deep corners of our imagination?

Lost prose, faded polaroid, dusty books, rusty film.

It lived, it existed in our thoughts and dreams, it was a part of our lonely curriculum of words, lines and colour. 

That world was made up of bits of memories, wants and Nostalgia. 

It happened, it is gone, buried. In a stash of smiles, laughter, smirks or tears.

Nostalgia is a pain equal to a low jab into the stomach, leaving you gasping for breath.

Nostalgia is redundant, it is reprehensible and worse than dreams.

Dreams give you hope, Nostalgia brings yearning.

We yearn for that perfect world which was supposed to exist but doesn’t.

Is there an antidote, a cure, an answer to that desire?

But if that world came alive today, will you cherish it? Will you stop complaining?

Will you accept its flaws or worse will you stop finding flaws in it?

O Human, you wish for a perfect existence but you the epitome of imperfections, you will never let it exist; for you O unhappy one, you will, in a selfish stride, not tend to it and find solace in the gloom of its ashes!

Weight and Watch - Then, now and later

LOSE WEIGHT NOW, TELL ME HOW. 

I have for the past few years struggled immensely with my weight. Most of my 20s, to my surprise, I have been put under such scrutinizing scanners. Just for all records, I am not a model/actress/popstar/stewardess/pageant wannabe. Yet I have borne the brunt of this constant weight gain and the comments that came flooding along with it since the time I finished school. These varied from the juvenile leg-pulling by friends and family members to spiteful jibes and insults, even from strangers. From random auditions to making the cut for internet videos, everyone I met or didn't would spite my "chubby" face, and deem me unfit for the precious screen. I learnt to take it in my stride, though disappointed. However, thanks to a few people or my "support circle" who helped me keep it together, they didn't let me get affected with this constant flak and they balanced my life, making it a bitter sweet series of experiences. For most part, I have never thought of myself as a mirror-cracking beauty but rather someone who can think and has the ability to discern and comprehend life better than most. Yet with wit and reason there is also weakness in emotion. 

But more than a narcissistic blog (which in essence it is), I want to delve into the larger issue here. Because as far as I remember, I wasn't always this over-weight. I was a skinny child and an extremely athletic teenager. My life revolved around sports, dance and books. Food, alcohol, drugs, partying, socialising were never a part of my world. Shy and socially awkward, I could never understand as to why people thought I was too skinny, too pale, too worn out, too ugly. They never made any efforts to hide these scathing and hurtful opinions about me which eventually turned me into a depressed, introverted and suicidal teenager. Even being thin was a sin! I never got it.

"Chain of Unhappiness" as I call it, is the tendency we all have where we dump our own unhappiness on to others especially when we are sure they will not give it back to us. They in turn dump their same inadequacies on to another person. Thus a chain of unhappiness is formed! More on this in the upcoming blog...

I am still advised to not pay attention to people who criticize me at only one level, my weight. However I see it this way and ask you to visualize. Someone with a very blunt knife tries to cut you open. It doesn't hurt, there is barely a scar. But then when a handful of people use the same blade in the same place, it begins to scar and hurt. And when about a thousand people continue to shear your skin with the same blunt knife over and over again, you will bleed and you will cry of excruciating pain. If this metaphor beats you, then may your Lord help you for you will be crushed by your own peers!

Of course, this pressure, this "weight"age on appearances, this skewed you-have-to-be-thin-to-be-beautiful body image are all societal gifts, notions which you HAVE TO adhere to. Addressing my own problem on the same premise, the "lose weight fast" had become a rallying phrase of my life 7 years ago only. Nothing changed, I lost confidence and gained, more kilos every year. Innumerable fruitless attempts of grueling gymming, crash dieting, stretching, fasting and whatever I could in my capacity, I admit I failed. Though in all honesty it is nobody's business to judge, care or comment on how my body looks. I have fallen prey to the jaws of familial and peer pressure, where I thought I was profound.

3 months ago I began working out in the gym again, intensively. I began to see results and had started feeling good within just a weeks. 2 months ago however, after suffering for a whole week of unimaginable pain in my thigh joint, I was diagnosed with a hip joint infection which in fact was this Sciatica nerve related pain. This affects one's back, thigh, leg, joints, muscles, bones everything that you are made of. Medication and complete bed rest was prescribed. Immobility and dependency had creeped in. During this time I thought, a lot and realised, I would gain more weight than ever, with absolutely no option of exercise even a little. The journey to the doom began. The nightmares will be relived. Still been asked not to exert myself for precautionary reason, do you think anyone who wants to make jaded remarks would stop for one second to think of possible reasons behind the weight? Nobody does! However, I am better equipped this time to take more insult and slander (more self-pity). 

In conclusion, all I see is that the problem is at the surface, quite literally!

Then: 2006-07     Now: 2012-13 

Small Town Girl of a Big City

And it seemed dead, for there was no woman in sight for miles... It gave me the chills, my home town was haunted now. Everywhere I saw it was men and more proud, vain men. One of them couldn't stop staring as I sipped my can of beer sitting comfortably with a cousin. I asked him to please not lech. His reply was full of unabashed glee, "Aap bura mat maano please, magar maine aaj tak kisi ladki ko sharaab peete nahi dekha." It shook me out of my senses. It not just saddened me at the grave social conditions of the so-called fast-progressing society of my town but gave me a peek into why Bareilly is only full of men, especially on the streets. That took me back to 13 years ago.

13 years ago, I had recently shifted to my hometown, my birth place, my matrabhoomi (or whatever you may call it) from Delhi. It felt sort of nice to be back to the small town life in Bareilly, UP after being all crazed up here in the capital. I remember, as a 13-year old girl, I was never conscious of what I wore or how I looked. So during one of those oh-so-regular power outages on a hot July afternoon in Bareilly, I was about to step out in my extremely comfortable "long" skirt for some fresh air. I was stopped by this distant cousin (at whose house I was staying at and who happened to have known the place better than me). I didn't understand why she asked me to change into something decent like "full jeans and no capris". I laughed at her first and told her to chill as it was extremely hot and I was comfortable in my "Delhi clothes". She responded very gravely about how dangerous it would be for me if I went out dressed like that.

Little did I know that she would be proven right within exact 2 days. A disgusting recollection and a sad demise of my childhood innocence when I found a rowdy illiterate pervert's filthy hand on my bare leg. It took me sometime to realise the horror of it all. As I was enjoying the evening breeze on a rickshaw-ride with my mom through the roads of Bareilly in my so called "Delhi shorts", some man was following us and had had his hand on my legs for a quite long time while I was not-so-blissfully ignorant about it. And I screamed! I screamed for I felt violated for life. He ran away. No one could do a thing about it. Instead people asked my mother to teach her daughter to dress "decently". And that was the end of a freedom of blissful ignorance that I had been enjoying.

Since that day I had been careful to cover my arms and legs while stepping out of the house even for groceries. As a teenager, I wanted to see the world, I was ambitious, wanted to be a part of a cool "Delhi-like" social circle. Unfortunately, that was too much to ask for in that small town. Forget drinking, going to a restaurant with your friends was looked down as something "too modern" which only spoilt girls do (I am 26 by the way and I am chronicling the years 2001- 2006). Talking to boys was a strict no-no. Even in a co-ed convent school it was frowned upon by the authorities.

Then came the senior school years, when all you are supposed to do is STUDY your ass off! So I did. Study in school, study at home, study in your sleep and also go for 4 different subject tuitions on my bicycle and later a tiny scooty. Do all this but ensure to be inside my house's periphery before 6 pm (none of it was instructed to me by my parents). It was a norm that all followed. Girls moved about on their two-wheelers scared. Scared of hordes of bikers, scooterists, even cyclists following them around the city.

GOD FORBID, if you let your hair open and be seen on the street like THAT. You'd be gawked at, like you were a piece of meat, lewd remarks branding you as a slut, and many times groped and molested (I speak of this from personal experience). I once made a mistake of wearing a sleeveless shirt with a group of 8 women from my own family. A college-going student couldn't keep his hands off and behold another groping right in front of the family as he sped away on his I-am-a-hunk-I-grope-random-girls-cos-my-dad-gifted-me-shiny-bike. I was left aghast and scarred. I made up my mind that very instant, I will not stay in this town where girls are mere objects. Where I am constantly threatened to fend for my safety and dignity. Where going to a market alone after 5 pm seemed like a wretched thought. I had made up my mind to head back to that safe place, that awesome city I had known since childhood. I came back to DELHI.

In the current state of affairs and how they've been since 7 years since I relocated to Delhi, today I ponder how was that life different from this? Yes I have had the best years, met the best people, built my career in Delhi, yet today I am reminded of those dark days of that small town. Those dirty hands trying to pinch me from every corner of "Bada Bazaar" to the same hands that I used to dodge in DTC and Blue Line buses on my daily commute here in the capital. I blamed all the eve-teasing, molestation and assaults on the size of the town. I stand corrected today. Any place is as good as its people. Misogyny, chauvinism and gender discrimination are nobody's prerogative, they are a cherished treasure everywhere now.

GROSS! *PUKES*

When Beeba Trended before the World Ended!

7th December I knew and had remembered was the day a good friend of mine was born 25 years ago. I had planned, like a good friend I would text him at 12 am since he would be home celebrating with family and call him up the next day to wish by singing Happy Birthday in my nasal twang (let's just skip that) but Twitter had other plans for him!

I rarely do care about Twitter Trends and I tweet anything and everything. But then a dear common friend of ours mentioned this to me on Facebook where I had reminded him of the said person's birthday, "EPICNESS happened, he is trending on Twitter!" I didn't believe it at first. I was like "ummm, ok let me see." And to my amazement, my dear friend who goes by the handle @beeba_puttar was TRENDING on his BIRTHDAY across INDIA. He is no tweleb (twitter celeb), no fancy ass photographer, writer, director, social media strategist, stand up comedian, janitor of the UN. And that was another reason why #HappyBirthdayBeeba trending on #1 spot bamboozled me.

This didn't stop here. People changed their names to #HappyBirthdayBeeba (causing a lot of confusion since 40 people had the same name on twitter),  #HappyBeebaDay, Yo Beeba, HBD BEEBZ, Beeba ki Beebani and Just In Beeba (my own twitter dedication), it took a crazy turn. People got inquisitive especially when they saw the top trend #HappyBirthdayBeeba, constant jokes, wishes, leg pulling, one liners, rants all flooded the twitter nation at once. Indeed it became a party. A virtual 'Project B' party that's what I think. That's when I understood the real strength of twitter.

People wanted to know who this Beeba guy/girl/phantom was. KARTIK CHACHRA (@beeba_puttar) when finally recovered from this Pan-India attention on his birthday was overwhelmed beyond belief. He told me, "I wish I could tell my parents about this but sadly they wouldn't understand the meaning of it all." 

#FacePalmMoments

But he knows what it means. A guy as funny as him with a decent following on twitter becoming this rage on his birthday, no, people, it is not a small feat.

Also he is a momma's boy hence beeba_puttar (and no he is no stinky Belieber if that's what you think, his life is ruled by Metallica only)

Kartik, my boy, birthday ho to aisa! Tera pagal pun sabka deewana pun ban gaya. #OkBye

Screenshots of the insanity that took place between 12 am till 6 am when Beeba Trended!

Daughters, Women and Anger

"Nurse: Mubarak ho, aapki bahu ki ladki hui hai!

Mother-in-law: Oh! Pakka? Chalo koi baat nahi. Agli baar hee sahi!"

"Rapist: Galti uski thi, usne jeans pehen rakhi thi, mujhse khud ko roka nahi gaya.

Judge: He is right! What was she doing on the road at 7.30 pm anyways? She must be a whore!"

"Scriptwriter: Sir, is jagah gaane ki zarurat nahi hai, yeh out of story ho jayega.

Producer: Bina item song ke aaj kal, public ko majja nahi aata. Jab tak screen pe jhatke na dikhein, koi nahi dekhne aayega film."

Yes, yes! I hear it every day, everywhere. I switch on the television, pick up the newspaper, surf the net, I see it, I know it. This was never a woman's country and it still isn't. Hating to admit I am terrified of the society and the deteriorating psyche of the people. I take my writer's liberty here to make it a rant blog but all the while ensuring that each and every word I write stands for nothing but the truth.

Even after being born in a liberal, educated family where they welcomed the birth of a girl child, gave us endless love and encouragement in life to achieve whatever we wanted to, there have always been times where my mother (of 2 daughters) was never spared the trouble of being taunted and questioned. From the postman to her own siblings and relatives, everyone made sure to let it be known to her that she is, in fact, an inferior mortal to have had borne "TWO DAUGHTERS & NOT EVEN ONE SON?" I used to laugh at those people when I was younger without understanding why they asked such funny questions. It is only after growing up I began to understand the discrimination and prejudices that were served left, right and centre to a family of only daughters. After all we are just "bojh and paraya dhan" for our parents. No LOLs!

Hailing from a science background, I know it isn't neither a female's fault nor is it in her biology to even decide/determine/choose the gender of the baby she might birth. But let's keep the technicalities aside. We all must have heard this before plenty of times, but those who were born with the anti-woman mindset, well they would continue drowning little baby girls in milk or the holy river.

Now whichever high pedestal sitting defender of the law of an idiot warned women to not wear "provocative clothes", should pay heed to this point. Just like any other working girl in the city, I end up wearing clothes covering me from head to toe (thanks to the Delhi heat, protection of hair and skin is mandatory). I step out of the house with my nerdy glasses, full sleeved loose kurtas, baggy jeans, covered feet and a massive tent like head scarf sans make up. I do not commute alone post 8 pm no matter whatever the circumstances be. So please to tell Sir McShitbrains, why am I still subjected to constant eve-teasing/stares/lewd remarks on the road at 11 in the morning on a busy street?

For obvious reasons you will put it on me somehow on me and my dressing sense or with the same ease with which you brand every female in the city as a "prostitute", you may just tag me as just one of "them".   

A country of urban foeticide and female infanticides, our dear media has left no stone unturned in objectifying women either. And thanks to the latest "role models" like Poonam Pandey and Sherlyn "Shocking" Chopra, it is just all the more spectacular that the media and masses have accepted them as future inspirations for girls of this country. They are branded as "empowered women". How can I thank you more? For teaching us rape-infested society that all you need to become successful is to strip down to your birthday suit and behold!

Now I may be bordering on being orthodox but I am also paranoid. Paranoid as a woman, paranoid as a daughter, paranoid as a female employee, paranoid as an aunt, paranoid as a future wife and mother. In this country, in these times, on this day I rant and then I go quiet! 

But it will not stop here. It shouldn't stop today. The voice and the pride that I enjoy to be where and what I am will not be silenced after one angry blog. 

Oh also, a very Happy Daughter's Day on a Sunday!

Because I am proud of me and my amazing little sister!

WE THE PEOPLE

We the people, from the greatest ancient civilisation that exists no more. We the people, with a glorious past of invasions, colonisations and independence. We the people, who finally got the privilege of being a part of the world's largest democracy, handed over that power back due to ignorance.

Firstly, we have to steer past this tag bestowed to us by the world of being a race of "humble, hospitable and honest" people. Let us get real! Idealistic patriotism is not just redundant but, truly, doesn't hold any relevance in the present scenario. Here there is a vast difference when I talk about India, the country and Indians, the people.

For instance, we are a generation of instant gratifications living in the times of newsflashes. Our daily agenda is to wake up, read the papers and dismiss the government's lack of efficiency, blame it for the rampant corruption and crimes and then step out for work forgetting it all in a millisecond. For obvious reasons, we have to work and support our families, earn livelihood and pay taxes. We enjoy complaining about traffic, sanitary conditions, politics, weather, family issues and the list goes on. We celebrate every Indian victory in cricket like it is a festival bigger than Diwali. But amidst this chaos and humdrum we call life, little do we realise the undercurrents of national decay we are facing. Some of us are a little more aware to practically see it, but most of us take a look at an issue as a stand-alone incident and move on.

The advantages however of living in the times of honour killings, rapes, human trafficking, social media and monitored freedom of speech is that it turns any thinking individual into a cynic. If it fails to do so, every other person becomes an online activist instead.

As another girl in the capital, my greatest relief is to reach home safely after work or any outing. My greatest achievement is nothing more than a day of unscathed self-respect caused by some uncouth co-passenger, a passer-by on the road or people known to me. The unjustness of this society, discrimination towards women, especially, isn't new. I may be hailing from a liberal, educated family who doesn't interfere with my affairs but instances can be cited where I observe these prejudices, this unfairness of basic attitude from both men and women and me being treated with disrespect by someone or the other at all levels. People being judgmental with their biased morality is an almost daily occurrence.

Forget the government banning social media sites and arresting cartoonists, forget the police blaming women for living like normal people and walking around in the clothes of their choice, forget about political leaders with over 2000 pending charges of arson and mass murders roaming scot-free, it is about 'we the people' before even considering to talk about the system.

We the people of the largest democracy in the world are doing nothing but letting the power slip away from our hands. The power to guard our rights doesn't lie with us anymore. The list of social and moral crimes is endless before even coming to talk about federal felonies.

Keeping one's city clean is no big task. We all want cleaner sidewalks, hygienic living conditions and nicely lit streets. It is just a simple matter of not littering or spitting. Talking of great historic civilisation of the same people seems laughable as one looks at the absence of basic civic sense. But beyond this, no amount of preaching works. 

But being a cynic doesn't really prepare one for optimism. Now does it? 

The Death of Conversation

Chatter-chatter-chatter; going on because it doesn't matter!

Tweet, Tweet, Tweet; find you hot but you're not so sweet!

Run, run, run; where are you going? thought you were the one!

Blah, blah, blah; What's wrong with you dude?

Only months ago I was lamenting on the fact that there are one thousand friends, acquaintances or people I have made eye contact with, but there is hardly anyone with whom I can sit over a cup of coffee and talk. I don't want a puppy listener but someone whom I can have a real conversation with. An argument would all the more hit my intellectual G-spot. But sadly that was all the lamenting I could do.

So being highly and now reluctantly addicted to the social media. Twitter now more than Facebook, all I see floating around are random jokes, sarcastic jibes, quirky and shocking one-liners, sheepherding of humour as I would like to call it. One original guy leads the way for the herd of hundreds of followers to imitate him. Since short-lived and quick appreciation is the greatest gratification in this trend. I personally follow some of the wittiest and funniest people ever and with follow I don't mean just clicking on the 'follow' tab on Twitter, but trying to know these funny and interesting fellows more closely and personally.

But again I am not limiting my argument to just these fantastic comical people but just about anyone and everyone, online and offline. The 'Conversation' being my real pursuit here, I am not averse to gossiping and idle chit-chat anymore. In this desperate need, I am willing to count it all under the ambit of my ever-eluding "Conversation". Time, the real devil, is one of those luxuries not everyone can afford or enjoy. Being on the run is the need of the hour, and even I do oblige. But when you sit down after a long day at work or a long weekend of drinking and getting hung over, you are obviously not left with much in your system.

Forget talking to your mother about your day, forget bonding with your siblings over dinner, forget discussing your future plans with your dad, forget chatting with your friends about that guy you've been ogling for a while, forget telling your spouse how important they are in your life, all we care about are things that are mere distractions. Random, irrelevant, gratifying or combining them all - fun.

Where does my beloved 'Conversation' fit in this fast-tracked life? We talk, we hear and we move on. We don't think (unless we want to sound spectacularly hilarious to the world online), we don't analyse, we don't psycho-analyse; instead we like this spot behind our monitors and we need Dutch-courage to communicate. We want to be heard and applauded but we are not willing to stop for one moment, make time for ourselves and others, we just don't want to have any conversation. We want to embrace randomness and we proudly do it. But in this endeavour, the real casualty is the intellect. And that my friend marks the death of the 'Conversation'! R.I.P.

Suicide

An abrupt decision
Painful illusion
Disrupted all her plans
Punctured ego
Nightmarish moment
She never could understand!

What happened?
She asked herself
Her guts revolted
The thought froze her
As it crept in
Then all went blank!

The night more evil
The cliff like death
The wind bore her
Astute as it seemed
It all had withered
Laid wasted on the land!

In the quick moment
She saw it all
The life that had gone bad
But never had she imagined
In the worst of times
Content never could be had!

Dark it was
But clear she saw
The blood, Her blood
Murky it seemed
After the thud
The mistake was rash!

The mist shrouded her
It was no glory
No quiet, no gain
Nothing she thought
It brought
Was shame and more pain!

Undo my death
She could only wince
Undo my loss
In seconds she knew
Kill she made of herself
And a bitter surrender!

Did i mispel it?

Siting in a corrner
Of a chaotec ofice
Typeing away to etarnity
Ammending pety speling erors
Corecting inacurate gramar
Expennding my vocabulery
Checkking minescule puctuations
Prroof reeding sesions
Duing a thankles job
Of shouttings and fihgts
Of unstopable comotion
Dirtty politcs consumming eaech alive
Presures only add to the misry
Fricshions and its repercushions
All are a parrt of the parcell
That they call advartising
In my opiniun is Madvartising
The mosst cladestine beings
Of this ecentric contraption
Are us the copyriters
Ooops did I mispel it?

ciao!

Jumped off my ship

Kicked away my life boat

Tore away the life jacket

Now drowning going deeper

Deep, deep down

Lost myself completely

Brooding over yesterday

The misery surrounds me

Holds me tight and takes me with it

Deep, deep down

Arrogance wins modesty loses

Powerful lives weak dies

The way the world turns

Yet it still stings

Deep, deep down

Losing it all with both hands

Crushing all the hopes

No fear no perception

Just letting myself fall

Deep, deep down

Hope and happiness

Goaded by own intentions

Unhappy with my introspection

But the hope still flickers inside

The one with whom now I abide



I will survive after all

I won’t be the cause of my fall

Clinging too tight to tomorrow

Dreading anymore sorrow



One little thing, a genuine smile

Kept eluding me all this while

But happy is what I will be

My moment will come to me



A complex cycle of joy and tears

Our treasured innocence it cuts and shears

My existence does have some implication

As there is no reason for this humiliation



In eternity we seek satisfaction

Searching answers in this cosmic contraption

Even in distress we never cease

To look for the curve that straightens every crease



But why should I not defy the unjust

Why should I lay battered and bust

For I deserve a right to rejoice

As happiness is such a simple choice

Suicide

An abrupt decision

Painful illusion

Disrupted all her plans

Punctured ego

Nightmarish moment

She never could understand!



What happened?

She asked herself

Her guts revolted

The thought froze her

As it creeped in

Then all went blank!



The night more evil

The cliff like death

The wind bore her

Astute as it seemed

It all had withered

Laid wasted on the land!



In the quick moment

She saw it all

The life that had gone bad

But never had she imagined

In the worst of times

Content never could be had!



Dark it was

But clear she saw

The blood, Her blood

Murky it seemed

After the thud

The mistake was rash!



The mist shrouded her

It was no glory

No quiet, no gain

Nothing she thought

It brought

Was shame and more pain!



Undo my death

She could only wince

Undo my loss

In seconds she knew

Kill she made of herself

And a bitter surrender!

Marriage- the ultimate resort or an obsolete notion??

I was wondering today where do we stand as a society, have we really progressed in terms of culture and lifestyles? People say we do!! I want to know are we really free to do what we really want to do? I m certain we are! But who decides what is right or wrong? Family, friends, colleagues or us? Why I ask marriage is such a big deal even today? It certainly is for the spending party i.e. the girl n her helpless parents whereas the opposite party gets an all expenses paid trip to the land of free gifts, extravagant feasts, fun and frolic yet they have all the rights and guts to grumble about that Gulaabjamun that didn’t taste so good in the wedding.

As a female I want to ask why do I have to get married before turning 25? I m not talking about a small town conservative family setup, I mean living in the capital of the country in a family which claims it is as modern as renaissance in the 16^th century, who are spending lakhs on my education after school, are ready to shell out even more for my MBAs and various professional diplomas. I m talking about the mall-culture family. Why is it when I turn 24, they start getting uncomfortable with the sight of me earning a 6-figured salary and leading a financially independent and a professionally respected life? Why do they want my money should go into the pockets of my in-laws? I have no complaints with what I have, its payback time for me, pay my family back everything they have given to me since the moment of my existence. Monetarily, emotionally I want to take care of them now without them worrying about monthly bills. Why do they start getting uneasy when my 25^th birthday year begins? They start asking all our relatives to suggest a “good boy” for me, go through matrimony websites that is only if they are that tech-savvy and secretly print ads in the matrimony section of the classifieds.

Alliance for beautiful, slim, fair girl working in MNC earning in 6 figures. Boy should be good-looking, well spoken and from an affluent background. Suitable candidates may contact……

They start spending sleepless nights over thinking about my marriage. If I have a boyfriend they start bugging him too asking him all sorts of questions regarding his career, his family, his future plans, his ideologies which were never asked in our courtship of 4 years and god save me if he is my age or younger. I still am talking about the same ultramodern mall hopping family. He would be considered immature and ineligible someone unworthy of me. Well how does that matter now when we have been in love for years and they been updated with his every step already? Well that’s not my point here. I mean I maybe on the threshold of a promotion or a transfer to the office abroad with a raise but I still would be questioningly eyed around because I m almost 25 and not engaged. People start making indirect digs at me between their conversations over a cup of tea at get-togethers or family parties like their obedient daughters are well settled with “respectable” lawyers and CEOs in Canada. Whats up with me? What am I doing without a fiancée? I ask everyone why do I need to get married after studying so hard and working even harder for a career that I am proud of and a life I love? I don’t see a point in getting married to please the society. It’s my choice whether I want to marry at 21 or 35 or don’t even want to marry at all. Why do people bother themselves with such a futile task of suggesting suitable matches for me and keep questioning my single happy life? Why do my parents even listen to those good-for-nothing relatives? Why do they taunt me around with the fact that I am the only one who is not married yet all my female friends are and even some of my guy friends too. Is there some kind of an outrageous contest being held like “The one who gets hitched first wins?” although it would be interesting if that happens. God forbid I mean GOD FORBID if I am not married till I am 27, people will call us everyday for a seemingly normal, routine chat with my mother and eventually would come to the exact motive of their call, ‘my sister’s brother-in-law’s neighbor’s uncle’ brother’s son is working as a computer engineer in the US, maybe you people should talk to them for your daughter’. ‘He is perfect for her, he is a 35 average looking man earning well and settled in the US’ Duh!! Then they would be after my life that I should finally decide on one guy and soon or else there will be no man left on this planet who will be ready to take me as his wife.

I totally agree with Rani Mukherjee in Hum Tum when she asks everyone to back off from fixing her up with strangers “Why don’t people take a hike from getting every girl married?” Is that the only thing a girl is born to do? A very relevant question indeed. I haven’t been vindicating all this while that people should change overnight because a handful of girls have questioned their ethos by being very vocal about their preferences in life. But all I want from this society is that it should stop interfering and judging my life and respect the notion of individuality and personal choice after all I never advised to have or not have their second baby or their third car to anybody.

Marriage clearly should and will happen only when I am ready for it in all respects and not because I blew 24 candles on the cake this year till then I am content dancing at other people’s nuptial ceremonies.