Mediocrity

Mediocrity can be a strange feeling

Neither drowning nor saving

You are just face-saving

“Oh you are fine

Better than so many others

Maybe not as good as the best

Definitely not as good as the rest”

Are you drowning again?

Are you still alive?

Are you living a lie?

And that’s the whole of it,

That’s how it will end,

That’s how it will die

Dear friend

dear friend, where are you

are you hiding behind my friend who is a tad too busy
are you hiding behind the friend who has left the country for better prospects
are you hiding behind my friend who has other friends now
or are you hiding behind that friend who loves his virtual world

dear friend, I need you more than ever

I need you to be the mother to comfort me with your embrace and sweet white lies
I need you to be the father to stand strong and make me my confident self
I need you to be the lover whose affections are unconditional
I need you to be the brother whose wise cracks are inappropriate but much needed

dear friend, do come back

please come back to me for I need your rock solid assurances
please come back to me so I can break down and let go at times
please come back to me so I don't forget what it is to laugh at the cloudiest times
please come back to me so I can pretend not be alone and you can also find the same friend in me

pictures lie

Do pictures always lie
Do they ever follow the truth, do they ever try

Do they try and break the barriers of deceit and slyness
Do they honour souls which are honest and guileless

Do pictures seduce you with the smiles
Do they ever show the tears that lie beneath
Do they build walls around your trust
Do they make the lying worthwhile

Do pictures help cope
Do they toss you to a wonderland
A land which is built on only hope

Do pictures whisper love
or they just shout lustful thoughts
making you peak with imagination
and then die away in a sea of rot

Friendship

Friendship is elusive,
nothing is ever conclusive
we cry together, we share a snack
you laugh at my jokes, we go way back

Is all I thought I needed to define friends
but world has not left this untouched
stung with shallowness, mired in superficial
it has sucked the life out of friendship
now it defines nothing crucial

Turns out I was wrong all along
there was no happy nor joy, no bonding nor silly songs
There was no sharing secrets nor revealing crushes
no fighting and fall outs, no phone conversation or heady rushes

The fun stories are stale now, laughs are few
Why oh why, ever up we grew

Not a fairy tale

How life is not a fairly tale

How it will throw stones and bricks at you

And make you feel gross and stale

How it will assure you falsely

And lick up your wounds wisely

But snigger at your every woe

And push your further into the well of sorrow

How life will tell you the world is at your feet

But it’s you who is at it’s feet

At it’s mercy

Making you wonder

If you and your hopes will ever meet

How it will open doors to your darkest fear

Fear, you didn’t know existed

Loneliness will bite

Mind going crazy

You will lose sense of what’s wrong and what isn’t right

At your lowest, life will tell you

Alas I go on and so should you

And so the circus will continue

The brand new bride

I am technically not 'brand new' but the definition of relativity places me safely in the category. Bride- I am! At least in my heart. I still have to get over the hangover of getting married, of meeting friends whom I haven't seen in months/ years, those who took time off work to celebrate with us, family get-togethers and going through the best shots to put an album together.

Days before my wedding, I went through some excellently written blogs. Obviously they were wedding related. It is overwhelming how well people write and how there is hardly any matter left which haven't been explored. Right from which MUA to which designer to which hair dresser had been zeroed in, complete with  the address and phone numbers. My excitement looked drab in front of this earnest dedication to everything 'bridal'. I will be honest here and say I was completely intimidated by the frenzy surrounding me. Was my excitement enough? Is my enthusiasm upto mark? I would hear of friends/ batchmates travelling length and breadth of the country just to get that right lehenga, the right nathni, the right colour for the dupatta, that profiles were being sent for Band Baaja Brides' and pre- wedding trips with in laws were being planned. I got the usual calls from friends and family (his and mine) on how the 'shopping' was going. I had already bought the wedding day saree. My briskness seemed like a crime. But how, where, from where! Saree, no lehenga? Oh! Bong!! and the blouse design?
The period of paranoia was far from over. I would read interview of to be brides, envy my friends who thought this was no age to get married, and had regular bouts of running away. I had to make up shopping lists and create wedding idea folders on my desktop to prove to my colleagues - yes! I am getting married.

I tried 'talking' to my then to be husband. Needless to say he just wouldn't understand the 'problem'. "But don't you love all the attention and shopping discussions?" That would just make matters worse. I feared I was losing my head and had to take constant assurances from him that he still intends to tie the knot with me.
Coupled with the above was the chronic problem of my appearance. The first time I broke my wedding news to one of my friend, she after a while of dilly-dallying asked me when do I start working out. The issue had been nagging me and now it was out in the open. My friend told me stories of how her already scrawny sister had to join a gym, because the camera adds 10kilos to you. My healthy build would mean utter disaster. So, I decided to take the bull by the horns, invested in a 6 months membership in a gym. The first month went smoothly, till the new instructor joined. The short stocky man was an absolute devil. It felt like it was his life's mission to help me on the path to a fitter and leaner figure. I smiled and bore with him as much as my sensibilities allow. One day he made a small effort to be friendly by asking If I am from Calcutta, I nodded and he mentioned how my t-shirt the day before - WHAT I LOVE ABOUT CAL? revealed it all. That did it. I can't explain why but I snapped. Rather my will to go back again did. I could no longer be taking fitness lessons from someone who had to use my t shirt as a conversation starter. Back of my head (a more sensible area of my brain) knew these were mere excuses from going back to the dreaded place called the gymnasium. Another month of guilt pangs and constant jibes from friends, and that chapter was closed. It left me with the learning of how successful opening a fitness center would be - the perfect biz model.

The wedding prep saga continued. I decided one thing within my power is my diet intake (I couldn't be more wrong). The deal with food is you are fine till no special occasion is around the corner. The moment your brain signals your tummy that there is your day is coming soon, you are doomed - donuts will scream out to you for attention, parathas will dance in front of your eyes, rice and rajma will make your day, banana milk shakes will make you drool and beer will be your new best friend.
In such circumstances was the poor me. Fighting yum food was a battle which I was losing swiftly. The days when I gave in (most days) I had sleepless nights with nightmares which constituted of blouse alterations. The most difficult factor to fight off in this dept was my very own mother. She would ladle my plate with food fit for an entire family. She would tell me how she wanted to make up for the time I stayed in hostels but the fact that she would take it in the literal sense, shook me. Did she actually think that I could be fed 7 years worth of home cooked meals? God only knows! My frustration with food reached a point where I desperately wanted to be married off to put an end to this madness.

How I wished I could pour my heart out to someone. Though I had friends and family excited to get a detailed description of my pre marriage jitters. but what surprised me was everyone who was unmarried had their set of jitters already in mind. If I didnt conform to them, then It wasnt correct. Leave correct, nobody is even interested to know what my concerns were. The only people who understood were the already married parties and the already married, i believe are a sadist lot. They would assure you getting married is the way to go and sit back and smirk as they see you walk down the same path, which ultimately leads to dirty nappies, jealous wives, ungrateful kids and Tulsi Virani soaps.

As I walked down a lonely path to the d-day, it was Amitabh Bachhan and Rabindranath Tagore who were playing on my mind. The concoction made out of Ekla cholo re and Muqqadar ka sikandar gave me a lot of peace and strength in my last few days. And why not? why should i not look for solace before I go head on into building a home and setting up base in sasural. Why are all men the supposed victims. Why are all the jokes on how men will be sacrificed on the alter of love and commitment. Ask anyone in this great nation of ours, there is always a 10 men to 1 woman ratio when it comes to the law of flirting. So, technically it is the ladies who are giving up some serious fun and a lot of attention from different quarters.

So post pheras as I sat there looking into the fire, lusting after paneer tikka and blueberry cheescake, it suddenly dawned on me how its the last day of my battle with food, wedding folders and blouse designs. Sensible me knows there are bigger battles to be fought, but I feel elated with the minute ones that I just overcame. With a smug smile and a sharp nod at my friend with the hipster, i feel warmth trickling down inside as my heart lightens up like its my wedding night

the journey backwards

today after years of looking ahead
I took a step back

The step I took was big
I was heading to the same old track

I stood across the dusty path and felt the last decade rushing by
I scraped and clawed but couldn'
t hold on to the time flying by

I took the bold step forward as a shudder ran through my body
I saw asking myself is it still the same, maybe, could be, will be?

I reached the rusty gate and found chains that bar me from entering
but not a soul was in sight and I was close to surrendering

But fate had other plans, he wanted me to be young again
He wanted that I should prance around, feel 16, in that hot aftenoon dusty lane

I pushed open the gates and instantly stepped into the year 2005
it was raining heavily at 7 in the morning and I was going to crash into princi who had just arrived

I suddenly feel a tap on my shoulders and I see my beloved standing by me
I am hurled back to my spot, the path lined with old silent trees

Every step I took inside I heard memories screaming out to me with joy
welcoming me back with open arms and I am bewildered - boy oh boy!

As I keep moving inside, jolting in and out of what is now - what was then
I notice a small path which led to a new unknown space and I ask myself - it was created when?

I rack my brain over a small path, an unknow destination
Could this be true, has my memory altered and have my recollections faltered

I take it to reach the old familiar territory,
a smile spreads across my face
yes! I know this, I have been here, I have walked the same very patch
the smile stays as I explore my age old base

To new eyes, this is a relic
the paint is peeling off, the doors are creaking
the uncomfortable furniture, the roofs are leaking

To the old guards, its an untouched dreamland
Untouched because, etched in our mind is a fool's paradise
A kingdom of dreams, promises and desires

The broken and soon mended hearts, the rush of exams
the crippled rules, the muddy shoes
the onset of monsoons and the hated chemsitry lab
dancing around and winning debates with your gift of gab
the first day in this school and making a friend for life
making unsaid promises, which you have kept even in times of strife

As I made my exit, I feel contended
I may/ may not have made the best of the opportunities, I did make the best of memories
The next I feel sorry for myself or feel demented
I will make a trip down the very same lane,
thinking to myself
what a wonderful world!

A month of happiness

a month of happiness,
a month of joy

a month when time flew,
a month when responsibilities grew

a month of discovering that you cant cook,
a month of believing that you have to keep trying and that you
probably should

a month when insecurities surround you,
a month when bankruptcy found you

a month when you rise before the sun does,
a month when inlwas and parents call constantly and you treat it like
a curse

a month of stained shirts, a month of bright bedsheets,
a month of pressure cooked rice and a month square chappatis

a month of friends telling you "I am out wih friends"
that they will see you the coming week,
a month of being cross with your partner because the swaad in the dal
was 'also' weak

a month of worrying, a month of building
a month of arguing, a month of rebuilding

hoping months will fly, faster than time
maybe marrying your love after all, is not such a crime

Bangalore

1. The city where cabbies will not speak a word of hindi and very little english but croon 'dil to pagal hain' with elan, drum their fingers and whistle, so you have the full orchestra going. Then there are some who like their kannada radio stations. Initially I couldnt connect but some of them do have great beats and before you know you are humming along. I end up recognising some nos by the tune. I hate to admit but it makes me feel at home.

2. The city where I learnt to ride two wheelers. I havent plucked the courage to try my hand at 4-wheelers yet. I have seen women drivers in the city and though some are real experts,I have seen too many poor ones and I would despise myself to be counted among them. I also learnt that one of the most importanat aspect of learning to drive around the city involves familiarity with all potholes. I had a near disaster the other day, I was very sure that my insides did a small jiggy dance.

3. The city where I discovered the superirioty of idli can be risen, just by the 'dip' method. Eat idli with sambhar separate is what I had experienced till then. But dunk your idli in bowl full of sambhar and voila! you will experience eureka.

4. I can just go on and on about the filter coffee. I am sure every other state in the South can boast of its richness in terms of coffee, but Bangalore is what I experienced first hand. I was not disappointed. Being a Bengali, tea pretty much runs in my vein. I am not talking Tea chamomile but true desi bhaded chaa, which found an easy replacement in the coffee here.

5. The thing that I am going to miss the most, the day I say tata to Bangalore is the Bakery culture. I have treated myself at Kayani's in Bombay, Universal in Hyderabad, Nahoum's in Calcutta but the scene here is completely different. Drop in at around 11 in the morning at any of the Iyengar's and bite into the delicious egg puffs or the 'just out of the oven' Capsicum Buns. You can feel the smile spread acorss your smug face. All very affordable, mind you.

6. Beer. and that itself brings a wide grin. I see it is pretty much treated as 'soft' drink but I am not ashamed. I am also yet to meet someone (a lady) who shares the love, but I definitely have a lot of dude friends who share the passion. I don't claim to be an afficionado but the city has added to my knowledge to the kinds and brews.

7. The city where I went out driving at 2 in the morning with friends to explore a haunted area. I have no idea why was I on the wheels. No, we luckily didnt experience anything which can be labeled occult.

8. The city which taught me hard work pays. I had always heard the phrase but to see it happen in front of your eyes is very different. It may not have paid as much as I would have wanted it to but whatever.

9. The weather! I cant believe I wrote like 8 points before this one. This most certainly is in my top 3 on why I love Bangalore. The weather is like Mallika Sharawat, hate her but you cant ignore her. Even if you are a Bangalore hater, you just cant run from the beautiful weather. You have to have some good karma on your side to have arrived here to experience it.

10. The city where I feel safe. I reserved this for the last because I felt it deserved special attention. There are very few places a single/married/working/at home women feel safe. Bangalore should be proud that it certainly gets the nod of safe city from most ladies junta here. Kudos!

Love 2014

Everyone has a take on what love is. Overused and abused in Bollywood. Time may have passed, expressions may have changed, but the word pretty much means the same. Damsels in distress are still being rescued in the name of love, superheros are still flying about to break their lady love's fall from tall buildings, running around tress is still pretty much in vogue.

So, is love 2014 any different from love 2004 or love 1984. You ask me, I say yes! Besides my personal take on it, a lot has. The world has found new ways to spread love, reach out to loved ones and stay connected with loving hearts.

Its the time of Diwali and electronics biggies are unabashedly desplaying ways to overcome boundaries and shorten distances. Parents staying in different town are not neglected anymore as they are just a webcam and a skype connection away. Girlfriend is easily reachable because now your pocket allows you to do so. Display of emotions have gone from flaunting your love letters to sharing mushy love messages on your dear one's FB wall. I recently saw a college senior's FB wall, where she shared her new borns' pictures. In a different time, I would in all probability never know she has stepped into motherhood. In a different time that wouldn matter. But this is 2014. Keeping in touch is in. And arent we loving it.

My father absolutely despises facebook. We constantly goad him into joining the brigade [I have often wondered if he is the only soul left on the face of earth not to give into the temptations]. He maintains that his phone is enough to keep in touch with the ones he would like to. He staunchly believes that tools like fb is the reason why so many of us are drifting apart. I disgaree.

Man is a social being. Mediums like fb, twitter prove it. The agenda, at the end of the day is to stay connected. We may be moving to mars very soon, but our mobile phones, electronic gadgets are still made, keeping the 'human-touch' in mind

The latest DSLR will know how to take the best of pictures, day or night, so we dont miss out on the special moments with our loved ones, share them, pin them, re-live them.

The latest Bose speakers will ensure the music we play touches our heart and that of our family and friends. Dance to them, sing along and live life a little more fully.

The modern DTH coonections make sure you dont miss out on your favourite programmes, so you can share a laugh with your husband, go through that Masterchef recipe yet again to impress your wife, replay that fun number for your son and see him imitate the Hrithik moves.

Love in modern timees, will be all about sharing with - and caring for - the ones you love and adore. Why should the coming year, or the one after that be any different? Kudos to the digital world for bridging the gap and keeping the spirit of love alive.

Being Batman

I have always believed that the baap of all Superheroes is the Batman. I have had this discussion, rather an argument, umpteen number of times on various occasion, with varied Superhero fans. Majority tend to believe its the Superman or Spiderman because they have real 'power'. Poor Batman, on the other hand has to take the support of his gadgets. He also, unlike most other Superhero's, isn't a nobody. In fact he is extremely well known for his rich inheritance, swanky cars and the women! To top this, he is portrayed as a spoilt brat, With old Albert at his beck and call.

 

However, I am still awed by him. Think of it like this -

he has the money, he has the women, and he has the looks and he has Albert. So why bother? He wasn't bitten by bats, his parents didn't come from mars, he wasn't exposed to RADIOACTIVE radiation. So where does the superhero itch come from? I believe it was the strength of his character. The willingness to help, to reach out, to do good, combined with his gallant nature, is what makes him push the boundaries, what makes him the Batman.

 

In a more day to day scenario, I believe dear Batman would fair better than his counterparts. In fact thrown him into a mundane setting and see him emerge as the winner.
 

I, for example, believe he can be an exemplary martketeer!

Imagine all the Superhero's assigned a task to promote themselves to attract investors, Whom do you think will command the maximum moolah? Hands down, Batman. The supercool gadgets is just the beginning. The underground research laboratory. The Batman suit. The Bat beacon. The Bat signal. The husky voice. And he is smart. Sometimes he is smarter than his man- Friday, Dr.Fox. He is a walking - talking - sleeping marketing dream. He can, one fine day, decide to give all the fortune up and still manage the same lavish lifestyle based on the wealth he amasses from his pure marketing acumen!

A marketing man should be able to tell his story so convincingly that the prospect forgets to differentiate between 'his needs' and 'his desires'.

 

We know that only one batman is enough for Gotham. But we also want that one batman to be us. We want to ride his cool vehicles and we want the bad guys to be afraid, be very afraid of us.

 

Many of us can claim to be the ultimate marketing Guru, but how many of us can tell a story convincingly to the person in front of us? It is time we go back to our roots, learn from Superheroes', who in my case is definitely the BATMAN!

 

 

Creativity Strikes

Men, in India, have to be a creative lot. I fail to understand If it's nature or nurture that arouses this genius creativity bug in them.

I believe I am not the only one to notice this talent. If we were to conduct a survey among the women, 99.999% of them will give a nod to my observation. You may have noticed it too. On the streets, in the autos, in buses, Office space, in the movies (where its dark!). Are you confused? Am I making no sense altogether? What is it that I am referring to exactly?

Well if its a woman reading this she may have experienced this when her pallu falls of her shoulders, the dupatta gives into gravity, the kurta takes wings with the wind baring those tight churidars underneath, when you reach up for the file on the top shelf and oops! you expose a part of your anatomy - your waist (everyone has one). I see the darkness lift and I making more sense now. The best one comes on the days when you are feeling fat and you decide to wear that lose sweater and you bend to pick up whatever it that you dropped and there it is! Jackpot for the 'stronger sex' and the imagination soars!!!


A lot of us, take these lightly because we believe we are the luckier lot. We have not been abused, we have not been beaten, we have not been raped, we have not been killed. We believe we have saved ourselves all these years because we ignored the glances, the touch, the stare. Mothers and Aunts have taught us for decades that you turn a blind eye and the world will be just fine. Dare you hurl back an abuse, dare you stare back, dare you raise your head and look them in the eye.

What If I don't want to be stared at, what If I want to walk freely, what If I don't want to carry that pepper spray in my bag, what If I tell you that culture is not about the length of my skirt but how my society treats me in public, will you laugh at my naivety?

The one thing that has always made me think - what is the solution, if there is one! Its no surprise that the issue permaetse all boundaries- Religion, Caste, Region, Rich, Poor. Barriers are withdrawn and everyone unites in the 'cause' So obviously, the problem is big and strong. Ray of hope is feeble. It has to start with us, our family, our friends. Take the step, make the effort, bring the change.

Saving Nirbhaya

We have completed 16 days and 6 hours since the Nirbhaya verdict came out.

The verdict came at a time when the ruling party - UPA - is battling suggestions of an empire that has failed its people. The party which was supposed to stand by the common man (Congress ka haath aam admi ke saath), has left him struggling all by himself. Abandoned and scared, the common man realizes his folly and wants to choose again.

It is the time of elections and we are set on someone much less reticent. However, having tasted power for 10 solid years, the UPA, will not leave any stone unturned. To counter this gloomy weather of low economic development and rising CAD, UPA decides to unveil its box of treasures. Out pops half hearted attemtps like the Food Security Bill, Land Acquisition Bill, etc. With Namo mowing down on their future aspirations (another 10 long years) and RaGa not helping much (whats with his dreams v/s the nations'), the UPA is looking for a last minute fix.

And Voila! the Nirbhaya case is put on fast track and justice is delivered. How wrong was the defense lawyer, when he called the verdict - politically motivated. Maybe all he was trying to do was sponge off some media attention in the run.
What of the other Nirbhayas awaiting justice? Statistics say that there is a rape reported every 22 minutes in India. Mind you, most never get reported. Don't these women deserve to be heard. Don't their families need 'closure'. Should their anguish be pushed into eternal darkness just because there is not an election around the corner.

If the media has to spread signature campaigns to reach the Govt's attention, If college campuses have to be turned into dharna spots to make a point, If candles have to be burned by an entire city for the administration to take notice, If news reporters have to pester the leaders of our nation with embarrassing questions so that they finally wake up, then we have all failed as a nation, as Indians, as human beings.

Then we have no right to turn around and point fingers at that defence lawyer, who believes, he would rather kill his daughter than let her have a boyfriend.

Cant take the bong out of bong

Why a bong will always be a bong!

1. The first gotta be food. The daily musuri/ moog dal and bhaat is an absolute necessity, so much so that Bongs travelling abroad (outside Bengal) will still look for a bangali restaurant. No matter if experimenting with local cuisine is on agenda or not and that they eat the same back home.

2. What we wear is an absolute signature of what we are. God forbid if we are travelling to Maanaali/ Shimlaa, monkey toopis (monkey caps) will save the day. Children have to be wrapped in 3 - 4 layers or there is no saving from the treacherous cold. God help you if a its a beach location. ma, mashi and mamuni's still have to wrap themselves in the 9-yard saree or the salwar kammez complete with the dupatta. Whilst the women take saving dignity very seriously, the men obviuosly throw care to the wind. They can usually be seen is underpants with their pot bellies preceding them.

3. Bong mothers. This should be self explanatory but If you are one unenlightened soul then let me show you the light. When god was creating moms, they decided on different so they created bong moms. There is popular Vodafone ad where the message says its built specially for mom's wider reach. The fact that they missed out on was- that its was the BONG moms. Once I tried explain the concept of a bong mom coming armed with a tiffin carrier to school to feed their off springs, to a friend. Having grown up in the north, it took him a while to grasp it, but you get the point. If you are out for a movie, with prior notice to her, she will still call you in the middle of it, she will insist on knowing how is it, when did its start, who is acting, well I can go on but that will take up an entire book.

4. We love everything mustard. The oil, the kashundi, the steamed hilsa, dabbing it on yourself in winters. We just cant seem to have enough of it. The reason still eludes us but the research is on.

5. There is a budding writer/ poet in all of us. We somehow, secretly, believe are distant descendants of Rabindranath Thakur. So we have to have to have keep the family heirloom alive and kicking. The gift of strong vocab and voracious reading should not and must not go to waste.

6. Durga Pujo. Who can forget that. Even If you have just 25% bong blood running in your veins, you have to dress up in the most gorgeous piece of clothing that you can lay your eyes over and strut around in them in Pujo pandals. Telebhaja and fuchkas are sacred food and absolutely not to be ignored.

7. Exams are taken very seriously, just like every other Indian household. However, Bongs believe in overdoing things. So they create their very own exit exams (like exit polls). Once babai/ shonamuni reache home after writing their paper, they are made to give a repeat performance of their 3 hour ordeal. This ofcourse is with keeping in mind their future planning. If bababi scores 88 in this term, then obviuosly he has to work harder in the next, crack the IIT and become the next JC Bose.

8. Local Valentines Day. If the world believed that Bengal can only be associated with everything old and run down, then hold it right there. We celebrate our very own Valentine's Day. Have you seen girls and boys pretty up on Saraswati Pujo day? Do you think its a happy coincidence that the 'Valentine's Day' follow soon? Our Indian gods are very smart and have placed their birthdays with meticulous planning.

9. Loudness. Our definition is very different from the Punjabi one. We just believe in decibles. Be it a converstaion with a friend/ ma/ baba/ dada, it got to garner the maximum attention, the most turned heads, and a few giggles also. Obviuosly, our strong protective layer safegurads us from taking notice of any kind of rebuke/ embarassment.

10. Multitasking runs in our blood. An average Bong kid will learn to play the tabla, practise joga (yoga), paint, dance, sing abritti ( did you take recitation for granted?), be the cricket champ or the football, master karate, phew... This ironically is in conflict with the famous childhood pearl of wisdom - Porashuna kore je gadi ghoda chore she (The one who studies will enjoy riches later in life)

Lost

A young starlet recently decided that life was too painful a journey. So she took the 'easier' way out. Thousands take their lives every year, leaving their near - dear ones lost and completely hopeless. But was this girl special? I don't think so, but being a celebrity comes with a price tag. Every news writer, reporter, blogger believes they have the birth right to comment on them. Death isn't gruesome enough, infact allows for a scope for more masala. Well, I don't stand in a position to judge because I am sort of guilty too. Sort of , because I intend to discuss the 'problem' and not 'her problem'.

'Suicide'may be a grim affair but the term is thrown around unabashedly. I have been reading and keep coming across words like 'coward', 'loser', 'ungrateful'. What we forget is people who do take the extreme steps, are, in that small window, from 'deciding a happy life isn't for them to actually hurting themselves' are hardly themselves anymore. Most of them are depressed and need support. Maybe they are too proud to ask for a shoulder to rest their heavy heart on, or they just don't have someone. Something as simple as 'I miss my family as I am extremely lonely' to 'my sweetheart doesn't want me anymore' can be a very strong trigger. Calling this an act of cowardice - isn't doing justice to the situation. Not all of us are born equal. If this can be true for our social standing, physical features, then why not our mental strength. Maybe some of us need more love and support at times.

I read this today morning. A blogger was comparing a street beggar's will to live with that of the deceased starlet. I was disturbed at the thought. When we suffer, it is but human to think that your pain and hurt is at the very pinnacle and nothing can be worse. Preaching how many farmers take their lives over failed crops that year has nothing to do with the issue at hand.

I don't have a solution to the problem. But I believe, letting your guards down in times of need and asking for support, will keep you from shoving yourself into eternal darkness.

A rainy affair

The queen of seasons is already here. By here I mean the green city - Bangalore. It hasn't arrived empty handed, but brought the king of fruits - mangoes - with itself. Doesn't it make for a perfect picture, you sitting at the window and the succulent yummy mangoes to give you company. The fruit has a seductive vibe to it. So, no wonder, where I thought I will discuss the rains, I very smoothly jumped to mangoes.

Sticking strictly to rains, this weather presents an irresistible charm. The grumpy clouds overhead, the uncertainty of whether it will rain (or not), the hidden desires that come to life when you grow conscious of a pair of eyes on you, while trying to make your way through the puddle bana swimming pool. One has to admit that through the autos that refuse to budge on a super rainy day, the overflowing gutters right outside your doorstep and the frizzy limp hair that makes you look like a sad version of you, there is a certain romanticism involved in the entire monsoon story. Blame it on the Bollywood movies or the cheesy novels, the weather promises an ambiguous start to a new affair.

I have always wondered what is this sweet mystery surrounding it? What is it that makes us despise it so much and still never get over the love affair? Maybe I never want to unravel it, maybe I never want it to cease, maybe I want to keep the doors open to fresh beginnings, unfamiliar avenues and novel experiences.

 Photo credit: tst_99

Age and time

How many of us associate the word 'old' with themselves? I guess a very few. We want to be alive and young forever, and foolishly believe that death, accident, illness and age cannot touch us. It is funny how we celebrate each birthday with such pomp and hoopla, but refuse to grow up. Honestly, I am not sure how to approach the title that I want to discuss today. Few months back, I saw an image on my wall, which presented the ironies connected with growing older. The father who is usually busy earning a livelihood misses out on the joy of bringing up his kids, the couple who never had enough money to see the world, is unable to do so even at older age, now because they lack good health. I didn't rack my brain over it because it was just one of those boring items, definitely not for the fun and young me.

So I met this old friend after a long time. We are in the same city but stay at two different ends. So, after careful planning over which coffee shop, what time, WHERE, etc the meeting was a success. I know her since I changed schools in my 4th std and was made to sit behind her. We have moved cities, colleges, made new friends, 15 years and still in touch. We haven't had much stay overs and was completely unaware of the coolness factor of 'pyjama party' till the Americans showed us and that was much later. One of the rare occasion when I did stay over at her place was about 3 years back. It was just 1 night but I will always remember the day. The I will always remember bit has very little do with how we broke into her dad's bar and stole some 'things' (in coffee mugs-which we had to rinse squeaky clean later, to remove evidence of any foul play) and mostly related to her house. In fact, the mansion would be a better word.

The big HOUSE had I don't know how many bedrooms, but I noticed most were empty. They were a big family of 5, but all kids were working out of town, settling themselves, building a life. I remember stealing glances at that mansion of a house in our younger days. Luckily the very friend was there too and we would together wonder the magic and fun the place held behind its big bolted gates. When I did stay over that day, I understood the word irony. The house was majestic and meant for a big happy family. But only 3 souls occupied that place. It was so easy to turn philosophical, with the Ganges right at your feet (!!) and long walks in the mango grove. I wish life could be turned around and we could start at the very end.

Stuck

A few days back, 3 to be precise, was a not so very nice day for me. I had a dinner to attend with my family. As it was in the honour of my dad, it was expected of me to go. I unfortunately, couldn't convince my mother about an overtime option at work. I cursed myself later on way to the 'party' on being such a whopping success as a fool! 5 years of hostel plus an additional 2 years of on my own hadn't taught me anything. One one hand I had mastered the art of not making my bed for 2 weeks in a row and using the chairs in my room as part-time wardrobe, and on the other I still couldn't make up stories with conviction.

Anyway, I ended up going. I knew it was going to be boring bad, but I wasn't prepared for a kick on my back. I don't know which was worse--being stuck with kids of 13 who were discussing Barney Stinson or aunties who talked of 5 ways to prepare Morabba in accented Hindi! Now I am a big fan of pickles,etc, so I ignored the terribly put-on accent and focused on how are they made (seriously!) But then one of them suddenly commented on how Bangalore houses are way more expensive than Mumbai's. I realized I didn't trust her anymore-- even if it's just achaar making.

The entire atmosphere was disturbing. Everyone seemed to enjoy, including my family. I felt betrayed.
 I thought I will make the best of the evening and turned my attention towards Food, when one of the cheeky 13 year old made her grand entry and wished all the 15 aunties in row and didn't stop/break at me. I had to be content with salad and just 1 puri after that. I had already made a secret prayer to the god inside me -- God! one day this stupid girl will turn my age and then, we will see!
Malevolence does not come naturally to me, but I felt cornered.

The day wasn't over yet. There were two new entrants, the aspiring model (think Deepika Padukone at 5'5) sisters. One hot woman is usually enough to ruffle up a chubby girl next door's pretty feathers, and here I was dealing with two. One of them decided to open her prettily glossed lips and grace us with some pearls of wisdom. I heard her telling a big chic, allegedly her friend, not to worry about her weight issues,,"You see! its your body structure" (Besides the smirk, the horns were almost visible) I convinced my poor heart that they aren't pretty and its just the scrawniness.

My heart  had very little space left to take any more blows. As If on cue, dad came to the rescue! Party was over and I could go home and crawl up in  bed and my oversized shirt and feel safe in my own little world

Are you dumb?

So is the answer No! Definitely a NO! or is there a teeny weeny bit inside you trying to lift its head against the lie. A vehement denial shows the daal is not all yellow(!!). Why the sudden question -- because I feel extremely 'dumb' today. Not the 'I need sympathy, save me, damsel in distress' dumb but the real thing.

World says, jao, udo, spread your wings, make mistakes, lose, experience! Easier said than done Mind You.
It takes some amount of 'daring' to make that mistake, gain from it and move ahead. I remember the first major error I did at work. Now that I look back, it seems pretty tuccha to the potential errors that I may commit now. Back then, it was my end of the world. I also understood the sadists of the world live for such moments, feed on others 'dumb' moments. Doesn't matter if these sad sadist character cannot separate a comma from a semicolon..that is but so not the point.

I don't know what you all smart asses out there do?
But I keep feeling terrible for the rest of the day, turn moody the next day and god save you If you cross my path in the next few days to come. In addition to turning moody, I start reliving all my 'loser' moments..moments which is nicely tucked away in a corner of my heart but does make special appearances. They are sad, creepy, sneaky, spooky and very Dementorish,,suck all the happiness out in a matter of seconds. All achievements, happy moments, success stories are wiped out leaving you blank. A dark cloud takes over and you start re-living the not so nice flashes from the past, voices mocking you, fingers pointed at you, yes now you believe them,, you are the epitome of dumbness!

I wish I could leave with a message of hope and triumph! You forget I feel dumb

Feminist? Real or Fake?

The question of the day to the women out there -- Are you a feminist for the sake of being one? Is there something like a fake feminist? (I strongly believe all male chauvinists are genuine). Do we, the Indian women need saving? I sometimes feel, 'woman empowerment' occupies a prestigious 3rd position in the Oscar of Topics (right after Cricket and everything Bollywood).

I have never believed that I am feminist but I have been tagged as one, and so many times that its amusing. Every accusation brings a smile to my face. But it makes me angry also because I strongly feel I have a neutral outlook towards woman issues. How do I call a spade - a spade without being branded as part of the elite feminist club. I tried shutting up but then..I am an Indian, on top a woman,,that too a Bongali one!

Enough with my plight, and we return to my original question. Do feminists create fake nuisance? Are all their plights fake? Was the lady who reported the Delhi rape case a feminist too? Sound absurd! But If we delve a  little deeper into the problem, we realize that it is our failure as a society that the word exists in the first place.

I am not talking about the newly married brides who are burnt alive, the just born babies put to death, the 4-year old something touched inappropriately..no they are too cliched for us. They should be reserved to fill page 3-4 of our national dailies and provide us company while we gulp down the morning tea or sit through our daily ablutions. I am talking about the slighter notions we hold about a 'woman'.

Why isn't your wife the leading bread-winner for your family? Believe in her and she can be much more than a 2nd grade teacher.
Treat her parents as the real parents too, remember they are old too and need company.
For god's sake, learn to cook and change nappies. They are your kids too, not the neighbour's.
If she is driving, let her. Chances are she is a much safer and pleasant driver than you.
ASK her If she wants to relax after the child comes. Her career choices are to be made by her. You wouldn't like it If she makes work choices for you.

History says women were held in high esteem and occupied positions of pride in the society. We got lost somewhere on the way. Today we pray to 10 different goddesses but don't hesitate to objectify women at the drop of a hat. It is the same India where Kareena Kapoor refuses to change her surname after her nikaah and a rape victim lies on the street for hours for help.

So I do not really care If a 'feminist' concern is genuine, till we assure ourselves of change and promise a fearless tomorrow to future daughters, it doesn't matter.