You are so full of shit – aren't you?

This article is dedicated to all the judgmental people out there. Hate you guys …. You suck!!!

This is the first time I have actually ever acknowledged their presence. Mostly, I pretend that they don’t exist. I treat such voices ultrasonic, such expressions faceless, and basically - to me, the space containing them is empty. They don’t deserve my time and attention - I, unlike them, HAVE a life. However, this article isn’t about turning the tables and judging them. No – I was recently faced with the unpleasant reality that while some people like me are able to ignore these morons, others can’t. And one such person was a friend of mine who was deeply hurt by someone’s very insensitive remarks. Thus, this article is for my friend – and all those of you who have fallen victim at some point to such unnecessary acid behavior. I will now start addressing all the judgmental people out there.

You walk around with hate and bitterness in your heart. You voice your opinions to anyone and everyone who will listen. As per the opinions of your cronies and you, the happy-go-lucky single girl is a leper. You will tell her and everyone else that she is a slut, and that while she can party and have fun with “strange boys” as long as she is young, she is headed towards disaster because she will one day be all alone. Strangely enough – you don’t say this to single men, unless they are in a financially better position than you/your husband/son/etc.

As per you, the young boys or girls who live in the flat above yours are nuisances who ought to be arrested. You think that Kareena Kapoor and Rihanna are big time sluts. No doubt, you would have read with glee any gossip on a tabloid which says horrible things about them. If like Nafisa Joseph, any of them fall victim to misfortune, instead of pitying them, you tell everyone “I always knew, that person was always trouble”. However, if you happen to accidentally meet them somewhere (you certainly are not among those people who would meet them on a regular basis), you wouldn't think twice before greedily begging for an autograph, or hassling them for a selfie.

You think that successful men always have double dealings with the mafia and are selfish. You think that teenagers ought to be “seen, but never heard”. You think that books and media these days are full of “unsavory stuff”, and completely enjoy the censor board’s annoying messages and forced edits on movies and serials. You think that your neighbors' kids who are studying in US are becoming “uncultured” (unless your own live abroad as well). You think that your colleague’s son is having an affair, and that other people’s daughters are sluts (unless they resemble yours in any aspect). You believe that your female colleague who just got promoted has been sleeping with the bosses, and your male colleague who got promoted is a kiss-ass. You feel that divorced people have serious mental or sexual issues. You think that rape victims deserve what they got. The list is endless.

But let’s think really hard – in this list, is anyone your friend? The real reason why you feel this way is because in the bottom of your heart, you realize that you are nothing. You have no special talent, you have absolutely no charm, and are completely boring. Probably, you even think that your own kids or spouse are unremarkable. You cannot even have a full conversation with anyone, because you can’t think of anything to say. You are facing serious insecurity issues with members of your immediate family, and bitterly realize that you don’t have the capability of changing your life.

Thus, you have no friends, and are completely alone. Being devoid of talent or personality, you develop idiosyncrasies or heavy opinions on popular people – because you think that it will make you stand out, and protect you from letting other people know the truth about you. The truth which you desperately wish you could change – that you and/or your family are completely unremarkable, boring and below average.

Do realize – people are not fools. We see right through you. Just because we tolerate you doesn't mean that we don’t. Maybe it doesn’t really matter to you – but your behavior is probably affecting your immediate family in a very negative way. While they are not our problem, do take this as a warning – DO NOT underestimate us, and learn to behave. If you cannot accept yourself or others, at least learn to keep your trap shut. There may be a few simple, innocent people who get temporarily fazed by what you tell them. Just remember – there will always be strong, powerful cynics like us who are everywhere. We will help your victims as well as every person you associate with on a daily basis to realize the truth – that you are full of shit. Don’t worry – we will never harm you physically. We just pity you – being in your head, your ego, your shoes for that matter - is the modern equivalent of inferno.

Daddy

He was, and always will be, my first love. 

He held me when I was little, and played ridiculous, humiliating games of pretending to be farm animals only to see me laugh. He hugged me, and protected me when I got scared of nightmares. He sang me lullabies, and helped me sleep when I couldnt. He pretended he couldn’t see me and made me felt wanted, needed by yelling “Oh my God, where did she go??” during Hide & Seek (although I was in plain sight. I used to stand behind the door and close my eyes, and think I was invisible). His voice would make me cackle at first, because he couldn’t find me. And after a few seconds, I would go rushing out to him because even at that age, I did not want him to worry. His trips abroad made me feel lonely. And when he would return, I would burst into tears – tears containing all those feelings I had bottled up inside me when he was gone, tears that wouldn’t stop because I had missed him so. I used to feel so possessive of his love, that I couldn’t bear it if new guests who had entered our home spoke to him, or even looked at him. Everybody had to win my approval first.

When I was eight, and was laughed at by everyone at school for having buck teeth, he was the one who told me I would win the Miss Universe title one day. When I stood second in class, he pushed me further, saying that I was his girl and that I would do him proud. And each time, no matter what place I stood at, he brought me chocolates, and proudly told everybody he knew that his daughter was a genius. When I bled from cuts and scrapes, he would put ointment on my wounds and hold me tight to make me feel safe. When I was punished by mom for being naughty, he would make me laugh and give me the strength to feel better again. 

When I got sick, he carried me over his shoulder and made sure that doctors give me their undivided attention. When I got into fights with bullying boys at school, and got into trouble with teachers, he would patiently hear my side of the story, and then defend me to the school administration. He gave me the strength to believe in myself. He taught me my worth, and stood by me through every hopeless breakup with boyfriends.

To me, he will always be my hero. Throughout the years, we have had our share of tiffs and disagreements. But I will always love him fiercely, and to me, he will always be the ideal man. Today, whenever I face criticism for being too independent and for not behaving like a damsel in distress, I feel my Baba standing next to me as I tell them to go to hell, because I know that I am right. When I speak up against injustice, or wrong-ness, I feel a voice in my head - Baba's voice - that I am doing the right thing. 

When I help people I don’t even know, it’s because of my Baba – the person to whom everybody would always go to when in need of help. When I feel frustrated, and have this crazy desire to just quit, I hear my Baba telling me – You are stronger than that! You are my kid! And when I see other girls whose fathers try to control every aspect of their lives – be it career or love – I feel angry. Angry, because I don’t understand. And I don’t really understand – because my Baba had never, ever stopped me from following my heart and my dreams.

I love you Baba. Thank you for being so wonderful. Thank you for teaching me my worth, and to know the difference between real men, and jerks. Thank you for loving me so much, and at the same time, to let me be free. I love you more than words can say. You & mom are the greatest loves of my life, and my best assets.

The Divine Meter

Dealing with pain is one of the hardest things in the world. While physical pain does have remedies – pain… when emotional, is certainly, one of the most difficult challenges ever faced by modern man & woman.

A very famous and wise person had once quoted “No one will ever understand you unless they go through the same pain”. This is perhaps, one of the simplest, and yet, most understated quotes every said. When we look around us, we see that everybody – man or woman is in some kind of emotional upheaval. Sure, the intensity may differ – while for some it may be a minor itch, for others, it feels like an abyss from which there is no return.

But it is there. Look at the quiet bespectacled girl quietly typing away at her desk. To you, she may seem the epitome of stolidity. However, deep inside she may be suffering from loneliness, an unhappy marriage, in-law troubles, or low self esteem which is unaided by the fact that her husband is having an affair. Your friend’s boss – about whose bitchiness your friend can never stop complaining – might be suffering from the pain caused by a rebellious child who has taken to bad company and whose grades are slipping each day. The fact that she also has to work for the sake of her own career not only gives her a headache, but also sends her on guilt trips.

So how do people cope with pain? For some who are lucky – family and friends offer a solid support and relief. Talking things out with those who understand you and love you – no matter what – can be like the nectar of life. Some others are equipped with the god given gift of compartmentalization. Such people lock away their pain in a little box at the back of their mind, and instead devote themselves wholly to other outlets – such as work or exercise.

The rest of us, who are not as lucky or as good at compartmentalization, go through trauma. No matter how hard we try, pain keeps attacking us over and over again – like a sadist who waits for his victim to recover a bit. Just when he starts to believe that the torture might be over – the sadist gives yet another round of agony. Pangs of pain – gut wrenching, stomach clinching, mind numbing, and heart snagging emotions - attack us when we are least expecting it. It could after a spa session, while waiting for the train, after lunch time, after a few drinks, between just waking to the point of being completely awake. And when it hits – we feel powerless. Hopeless. We feel like drowning victims who after a point of struggling futilely, realize that it’s better to just accept the situation and let the water take us under.

I am trying an experiment these days to deal with tough situations. I have accepted that life cannot be perfect – that there will always be ups and downs. Instead of viewing it as a sadist hell bent on torture, I view such pain causing events as a divine emotional rating meter. Just like seasons – a scorching summer is the only way people can truly appreciate the value of torrential rains. Thus, if we couldn’t ever feel pain, maybe we would never truly be able to appreciate the value of true happiness. So, I thank god with all my heart. Giving us pain is probably his way of reminding us that good things in life – like family, best friends, solitude, sound health, love – are truly divine gifts, and should be appreciated from the bottom of the heart. And so, with the knowledge that feeling pain is an indication – a preparation to be able to appreciate wonderful things in life, I rest down my pen.

To you my love..........

To you, with all my love


I dont know who I am
I dont know where I am going
I dont know what I can
Do... for this is where I am rowing

All i know is that I miss you,
And all i really want is a sign
All I really know is love is true,
All I really know is that you are mine

But why is life so complicated?
Why do we stand test to the sands of time?
Why isn't happiness for each fated?
Why is it taking you so long to be mine?

If love is true, I shall wait,
Wait until you are ready,
Ready to see that I am not someone you hate,
To understand that I can be steady

I understand.... i am a wild horse
Untamed, Unpredictable, Unruly,
But as love takes its course....
You will realize.... i do love you... truly

Some say that love is a pain...
Takes away all your focus
But these people only look for gain,
While love is really.... about us

For everytime I look at you,
All i ever feel is the truth....
An everything I do for you,
I only aim to sooth

Your heart... your bleeding soul,
To others you may appear heartless,
My mind tells me that the others have got you whole,
But to me... you are my prince... regardless

For you I wait my love...
My everlasting, my only.... love
It is only you I love,
It is only you who brings to me..... the real meaning of love!

Maya - 1

Who are you really? The question never really hits you until its a little late. You have been leading a happy go lucky life for a very long time now..... and you have come to terms with life. You realise that life isn't always rosy.... that you cant always get what you want. And you accept this.... this is a truth of life that you have accepted.

Unfortunately.... the bliss of singledom.......... this state of perfection.... isn't forever. Sooner or later... usually sooner.... things change. And that's when you realise..... you have outgrown the joys that singledom has to offer. You start realising that although mentally you still want the same things..... emotionally.... you have grown older. And suddenly..... you don't feel 18 anymore.

"Got ma first real six strings.... bought it at a five & dime,
 Played it until my fingers bled..... Was the summer of '69"

Those were indeed the best days of my life. That is what I will feel on retrospect.... when I look back into life. These are the best years of my life. Friends, love.... career..... family..... peace of mind... I have it all.

But Whose gonna be there for me when its gone? Whose gonna make me feel this way again??? Eveeryone I know.... are getting into commitments. I know that my friends will always love me. But their spouses.... well.. that's a whole diff story. A story with new shades & colours. And I so love the shades the way they are................ I cant love anything else. I cannot love anything more. I cannot accept either that this is what they call "Maya".... an Illusion. That this is a magical time which has an expiry date.

 

A Wish

Mom always says that there are 2 kinds of people in the world. The first kind are the givers - the people who always give - love, help, friendship & care - to people around them. The second kind are the takers - the ones who only keep taking stuff - materials, time, love, feelings - from as many people as possible, and still want more. The givers are the people who somehow, can just not stop caring. And the takers are the ones who will just not care.

Today, I am reminded of one of my favorite lines from the classic "Gone with the wind". The scene depicts Scarlett O Hara, watching her family members bustle in excitement & cheerfulness as they cut up her mother's old curtains to make her a dress. She alone knows in her mind, the devious plot she has hatched, for which she needed the dress. She knew that what she planned to do was entirely shocking, and was something her dead mother would feel very ashamed about. She realized  that in order to survive, and to ensure the safety of her dead father's property & the well being of her remaining family, she was going to do something which she would have probably never even thought about, if the war had not changed the world. She realized, that she had indeed, changed. Her core values, her morals had changed. But the people she cared about - the people for whom she had had to change, were still exactly the same people they were before the war. They could still afford to be themselves, and believe in the old values of the past, values which she was taught and values which she had prided herself for, because she had changed for them. And this was not something they realized. The irony was that if they had any idea what her plans were, they would be shocked, and would judge her to no end. But she had to do it - because if she did not, they would never survive. 

I am among the people who care too much. I wish I did not. There is no point really - in a world like today's - who really cares? No one gives a shit about anyone - no matter what happens. People forget their so called "best friend's" birthday, and don't bother disrupting their daily life even a little, because for them, their comfort zone is too important. I care, and so I decided to take the effort, because someone had to. And now, I am going to be judged - just because I asked people to step out of their comfort zones - just a little. But if I stopped caring, if I too continued behaving like everyone else, then there would be nothing left. But is this something which people realise? No they don't. They don't realise that they can all remain in their comfort zones & gossip & judge me, because I am the one keeping all of them together.

Maybe the fault lies with me. It is not necessary to care so much. Why should I spoil my relationships with people, & fight for others when I know perfectly well that its of absolutely no use? I wish I knew the answer. I wish.. I knew why even after millions of experiences  why I continue to care, why I cant become like the others. I wish I knew why I was such a masochist. I wish I could just not bother, and stop caring. I wish the pain would go away - a pain that has become all to familiar now. I wish I could just continue being merry & make politically correct statements whenever it mattered, and all the time ensuring that I don't have to even lift a single finger to help anyone.

Cultural Dilution

I had a long hard day. In fact, I had a long hard week, although, my week had started on Wednesday, when I got back to work from a great holiday. Over the last few weeks, I have had a lot of interesting conversations with friends, family & colleagues. All of their views have got me thinking on the subject - What is right & What is Wrong?

Ours is a society which is based on ancient tradition. This ancient tradition, over the years, changed several shades due to political & cultural influences froun invaders across the world. Now, our old, glorious tradition is almost lost - and all that remains is a half hazard, confused concoction which no one can really connect to. You may meet several people during the day who are very religious & culture conscious - they diligently offer prayers in their place of religion, they observe various traditions, give/take dowry as per their own sect's custom, arrange for ridiculously expensive weddings which could explain the reason why most western nations dont regard Indian poverty very seriously, and frown upon women who are "forward". Yet - when you have an in depth conversation with them about their customs, and delve deeper into their thoughts to understand why they stand by their traditions - they dont really have a satisfying answer. A satisfying answer would be either a logical one - giving a firm reason to why such and such activity should be performed due to x,y,z effects over society or oneself - or would simply be that believing gives them faith, and faith gives them strength to forbear the hardships of life.

But no - all you get are confused arguments, and hurriedly ended conversations. The main reason is that most people in our country do what they do simply because they have been programmed that way. This would also explain, the brutal rape case in Delhi. Dont get me wrong - women in our country have been raped continuously since forever. However, this particular case is particularly heart wrenching, simply because the nerve of the culprits has shaken everyone to their bone.

Somehow - I dont quiet digest the uproar. In ancient India, women were revered, respected & had an equal place in society. Hinduism is probably, one of the few religions in the world which have an equal number of male & female dieties. Some of the female dieties are in fact, considered to be more powerful under given circumstances than their male counterparts. The reason for all these values is the dilution of culture. And by culture - I dont mean religions. No religion on the planet encourages rape, torture & murder. Every religion preaches love, respect & mutual harmony. The cultural dilution happened because most of the outsiders who settled here were barbarians, conquerers, who used various techniques to break the steady harmony in this great land, divide its people, create differences & confusion & corrupt minds - to rule.

What we should remember is that we are no more ruled by barbarians. However, their dirty imprints still remain. The judicial system in India is now so complicated, that even for a terrorist like Kasab, who was seen killing & murdering hundreds of innocent people with great pleasure on camera in national television, the decision of capital punishment was given after 5 long years of trails & appeals. In India, the cultural dilution has become so intense, that a woman's safety, which was once considered one of the sacred dharmas for men, has now become a public joke. The wonderful constitution of India, does not consider rape to be worthy of capital punishment, or even life long imprisonment. Additionally, marital rape & forced anal or oral penetration is not even classified as rape. Punishments pertaining to molestation & other forms of assault are embarrasing, to say the least.

Even if there is complete evidence of the crime being committed, the court can take at least 4-5 years to reach a decision. And even if the court does take the right decision, "Human Rights" organisations spring out of nowhere demanding that the accused be let free, as he as already served the requisite number of years while awaiting trail. Politicians involve their dirty shit, making things murkier. Media takes things to even lower levels, by constantly flashing pictures of the victims & their family, while considerately protecting the accused. All the ruckus goes on for a few days - maybe a few weeks, and then people move on. After all, everyone has jobs to do, lives to live, & families to feed. The media move on to a new scandal, and life goes on.

So as ordinary citizens, as ordinary female citizens, what can we do? I would love to fight for the girl - see to it that all the culprits are publicly tortured & killed  - only after they beg for mercy. But I am only one person. It feels very nice to say that one person can make a difference- blah, blah. Fuck that shit. The truth is that practically, I feel useless & helpless. I know that the real problem is the culture dilution - and its effects. The way our society is. The way it treats educated, ambitious, frank & free spirited women. The way eve teasers are considered adorable - watch the new ad with the cricketer teaching his pals how to hit on gals. I know that I alone cannot change the country in one day.

Thus, I will pray. I still believe in God. My roots have always taught me that God acts in mysterious, but sure shot ways. I pray to the lord to have pity on the poor girl, on her parents, on other helpless women like her in this country who are constantly under the fear of attack. I pray to God to let me live to see the day when parents bid their daughters good bye each morning without worrying about their safety. I pray to God to let that glorious age return once more, when men & women mutually respected one another, and worked hard towards common goals rather than demonise themselves as well as society with corrupt thoughts of lust, control & power.