You, Sir, Get a life !

Dude,

I did not intend to write this to you, for I, still have critically important issues to resolve for my nation, but well, let’s get this shit over with. To begin with, let’s lay some ground rules,

• I am not answerable to you in any way, neither would I justify, explain, elaborate on anything.
• Don’t play my bf. Never. I can take care of myself, and that tone again, I swear, I’d kick your ass off.
• I am a very boring creature , I have no clue about latest movies/songs/gadgets/cars/phones etcetera. So we are sorted. I am a bad company.
• I don’t tolerate any nuisance in any way. Get that straight.
• Yes, I did give you my number, that didnt mean I’d entertain your calls and texts every fucking time. Get it? Good. I won’t either explain, why I didnt take your call or reply to a random text. That’s rude? Okay.
• If you need a girl to accessorise, knock someone else’s door. Thank you.
• I won’t reply to texts with intentional fucked up spellings. Give it a try.
• If you presume, women are dumb, Goodbye.
• I know, what’s in your head. Don’t beat around the bush, let’s get to the point.
• I don’t appreciate flattery of any kind.
• Do not infringe my personal space. Ever. 

Cool ? So, let’s meet over coffee? No? Sad.

Dear Gandhiji

Dear Gandhiji,

Wassup? Err, I mean, Sadar charan Sparsh. As you read this, you would have taken another birth and probably living a common man’s life, playing with your grandchildren and keeping track of the kaamwaalis, post retirement. I have always respected you, for what history has taught me and the movies have shown me. Although, some people have different views, they think you screwed up our history, but let’s not get there. Cool? I’m bothering you, to bring to your notice, the f**ks ups of Mr. Hazare, on your name. Don’t you see it? I have written letters to him, repeatedly, to no reply. Here,Letter to Mr. Hazare .  I don’t care he’s 80, he doesn’t eat, that’s his personal thing. But, what’s up with the blackmailing thing? He constantly alleges the government, that it ditched him and his team. Hello? Dude? Try governing a country with 1.2 billion people. Corruption needs to end, not this way. No, not this way. Governing a country and taking decisions is like Heisenberg’s uncertainty principle, you take care of corruption, bring in strict reforms, everything else goes random, you take care of everything else, corruption rises up. This is no monarchy, this is a government that the citizens of this nation, chose. Of all things, you cannot black mail it to do things your way on the pretext of not eating. You cannot stoop down to such levels. Gandhiji, don’t you see it? Do something, where are you? Tell him to shut up, people are bored of him, already. I am sick of him. He apparently meditated in front of your bronze statue, could you not put some sense into his head? I am very disappointed in you. The government came up with an ombudsman bill, but this guy, wants a stronger version of the bill, if I were the Prime Minister, I’d have put him behind the bars for wasting Parliament’s time, alleging government, black-mailing the government and instigating people against democracy. And his supporters, well, people will believe anything, if it is whispered or shouted out loud. This is what you left our country to? Are you happy for what is happening? Come back to life, and show us, what we’ve only heard. Be the father of the nation. Everyone is screwed up in their own politics, there’s no true leader. I know he’s bored in life, there’s no wife to screw his life and keep him busy fixing it. But, this is a huge cost for entertainment, No? Sigh. May lord bring him some wisdom. I am ready to lend mine. And Yeah, ‘Jai Hind’ !

Sincerely,

A Citizen

Go Die, 2011

The world is ready to celebrate the death of 2011, I want to poke a sharp knife in its eye and kick it's ass off till it dies.

This has been the worst year of my life, to say the least. It has given me damaged-beyond-repair relationships, people that were very very close to me and are no where near now, who've left a wound that I think, even time wouldn't heal. Anyway, as the new year begins, I hope, I would be able to put some sense into my life. A lot is awaiting this year, starting from graduation to working like slaves for someone else and thus, entering the vicious cycle, well, I've already entered it, No?

 All my life , I have wanted to be a wanderer, a nomad, I have wanted to visit the unknown places and travel the world, watch people, extract the goodness and move on to the next destination.As I keep saying, I want to travel with a pen, paper and a camera, that would be my idea of an ideal life. But, guess what, growing up is a bitch. It shatters everything. Everything. To materialize this, I know, there are endless constraints, endless.

Coming to the reality, I have no clue, how my life will look like in 6 months time, I don't know where to take it, how to shape it. I am probably turning into a nihilist. I ain't sure about that either. The world is making new year resolutions, I know, like all these years, I'd break them. And at the end of the year, crib. Like I am doin' now, and blame someone else. Like I just did. I am sure you do the same. No?

My new year resolution would be to keep my irrationalities to a bare minimum. Keep whatever/whoever induces irrationality in me, away. I wouldn't want to elaborate on this. Also, I would take writing more seriously and blog more frequently. Despite the fact that I have (almost) no readers, but writing, at the end of the day, makes me happy. Lets see if I can keep upto these. Wish me luck ! What are your new year resolutions ?  

An Open Letter to Ms. Vidya Balan

Ms. Balan,

Howdy?  Out of your ‘Dirty picture’ phase yet? Or still flaunting the blood red shimmery saari with red lip colour and the cheesy blouse? That too, with an ease, with which Pratibha Patil fucks up the annual presidential speech. I was stunned. Commendable job. If  I see you in that attire again, I’d be so fucked that I’d go watch the Ranveer kapoor  Singh’s shit, to forget yours. Life. Anyway, so I did watch the movie. Awesome shit. Nothing embarrasses me easily. You, ma’am, did.I was utterly disgusted, to say the least. My friends told me you acted well. Well, maybe.I was told, there is a story.Probably.I read, the story made sense. Perhaps. But guess what? Your creepy skin show crippled my head, no not in that sense. Please.I couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat, couldn’t talk, get the point? Ok. What were you thinking? Had you done it a little less, the point would have still be conveyed. No? We understand you were portraying Silk Smitha, you needn’t be dimensionally similar to her, to tell her tale. Your vulgarity was all that I could see, it overpowered everything that made sense et al. Did you not have a mirror or something? What did it tell you? I was once your fan, I’m losing it now. The story was well narrated, dialogues were just apt, there was stuff to be told, all this amongst the shit you did. That reminds me, you know how we engineers pass? In the exams, we have little to say, very little, so instead of quality we throw quantity.A lot of ugly shit with pseudo entertaining embellishments and little tinches of the actual matter. Got the point? No? I guessed. You looked worse than Shilpa Shetty in Main Khiladi tu anari . . I found peace in Imran Hashmi’s presence, never thought I’d have to see this day, but well, such is life. It’s like you are offered rotten eggs, smelly milk and Mirinda, Hashmi was the mirinda of the movie.Sigh. Anyway, I still don’t understand the movie, in its entirety. Maybe my EQ has decreased, or probably your IQ, either ways, it was a very disappointing experience.Should have stayed home to watch Guru Dutt’s Pyaasa. Oh, by the way, I dropped in to wish you luck for your future endeavours. Get well soon !

Sincerely,

A traumatized no one

Dear Believers,

Wassup? How’s your lord doin’? Pretty great, huh? I guessed. I dropped in to request you guys, to request your god on my behalf to stop givin’ me a hard time or else I’d have to visit some random temple and bribe him and all that related shit, that hurts my atheistic sentiments, more than watching public display of bhakti, loud cacophonous bhajans, tons of money spent on tents, flowers and other useless embellishments for a random god and all this in a country where getting edible food, potable water is a privilege. Can’t it all be settled off the temple without bribing and stuff, after all we’re all followers of Mr. Hazare. No? Also, please tell him, I can’t flatter him, an ideal god shouldn’t buy flattery, what’s up with your god? He’s the master of the universe? The least he can do is, fix brains. And to begin with, he must know, what he wants, from us, the mortals. And clearly communicate this to his followers, so that people know how to get their work done and stop being hypocritical about everything in life. A god, by definition is an ideal man, why would he want to be bribed with material pleasures like money, aren’t you explicitly disrespecting him that way? Why would he want to hear praise songs to listen to you? Why would he want gold statues studded with diamonds and all. Tell him, to get things straight, his followers are confused since centuries now, it’d decrease some randomness in their  your lives, not that my life is any better, but whatever. I respect the idea of a god, totally. One would need hope, an inner strength, an unknown trust on something supreme, something that we cannot touch, talk to, something that has the power to create us and destroy us. Something that’s way beyond the concepts of temples, churches, mosques, priests, religion, flattery et al. Faith, dear believers, is a personal journey, should not be imposed upon. To me, nature is god, we humans, remain an atom, if we consider the infinities of space and time, in the face of mammoth universe. Nature, creates us, and has the power to wipe us out, as a species. The laws of nature, have always left me in an awe, making me feel so small and yet so significant. It has defined beauty, force, strength, hope, belief, faith for me. Your idea of god, I seldom understand. It, very blatantly, crosses the line of rationality. An imaginary dude, governs our actions, thoughts, feelings, emotions and other screw ups, who doesn’t stop people for spending lacs in futile flattery in lieu of helping the needy, who doesn’t make people wise, doesn’t help them evolve over the centuries, this god, I don’t understand. This god, I refuse to respect. I cannot believe a god, who likes to be praised all the freaking time. Also, tell him, to not tell me what to do and what not. Morality should not be imposed by religion, if people are good only because they fear punishment and hope for reward, we are a sorry lot, we’ve failed as a civilisation. Also ask him, to knock some sense into those barbaric shit heads, who kill each other, in the name of a non-existent someone. I’ve written a couple of letters to your version of god, seems he’s mad at me or probably our wavelengths seldom match, he doesn’t like responding? Well, maybe. Please convey my request(s) to him, if he listens to you and tell him, I’m a poor girl, don’t have much to offer. Hope he’s sensitive enough to understand.

Thanks,

An Atheist  

Happy B'day !

You remember how we grew up together? You were so different back then, how I fell from the cycle that you were riding and you told me, not to cry in front of elders :D and the times when I insisted you to let me play cricket and you gave me the job of fetching the ball from the bushes K I still remember when you carried me home, when I semi-fainted while playing and had hurt my forehead. Life was so different and perfect in it’s own way. The day you were to leave for your MBA, I cried all night, for I knew, you had set forth for a journey and will never look back. I was happy and sad. I couldn’t believe you won’t live here with us, anymore. For all these years, you’ve been a best friend, a confidant, a father, a mentor and the best brother that anyone can ask for J You’ve always been here, no matter what. You’ve been with me in my lows, to cushion my falls, you’ve taught me lessons of life like a father does. You made me re-build my faith. I still have faint memories of all the Raksha Bandhans and Bhai doojs that we celebrated together, today, I know why these festivals were so close to my heart, every year I wish, you were here more than anything else in the world. I grew up copying you, for I thought you were cool :D Today, you inspire me to do what I believe in, to choose the right road, and that the choices can be difficult but they ultimately make the life easier. You’ve been my hero, you will always be. I dropped in to tell you that I’d always be there for you, with you. Here’s wishing you a very Happy Birthday, may you excel in all your endeavours and stay as awesome as you are J

P.S. What are you getting for me from the U.S. ? :D      

Love,

Me !

A letter to myself

Dear me,

Today, I’m very disappointed in you. I dropped in to make some things very clear in your head. You seriously annoy me to the point that makes me want, to leave you alone. Who are you? Who gave you the right to talk about someone else when, you yourself are so screwed and tend to be a loser. What are your accomplishments, all these years? Any? No? I know. I dropped in to tell you, to stop being an incorrigible lazy asshole and get to work. Justify your existence, you cannot be just another earthling who rants about things, bitches about people, sit back and observe things around and fucking does nothing, you seriously think you can survive that way? I don’t.You wont. You’ve used the resources of the nation and you, cannot be wasted. And what’s up with your irrational self? Why these post teenage tantrums? Remember the day, when we promised we’ll never acquire that aunty attitude, no matter what. What happened now? Remember the day when we decided to be rational about things? How can you, so blatantly, break the pact, in a matter of few seconds? You were supposed to be strong and not give a fuck about what people have to say, or their existence around you, or whatever. You so disgust me. You’ve been an under achiever. All you can do is talk like a moral preacher and do nothing about things that bother you. How does that make you different from anybody else? And if it doesn’t, who gives you the right to talk about them? Today, when you’re getting this undue attention, I am embarrassed more than you think. Accomplish tasks, achieve something, do something for the nation, switch from the talk-mode to do-mode and then grab attention and be proud of it. And where are those to-do lists of yours that we jot down at the beginning of every month and shamelessly disrespect it by the time the month ends. There are still miles to go before you sleep. Always remember, dear me, if you rest, you’ll rust. Stay alive, be healthy, die anyway. I leave you with Steve Jobs awesomeness.Please take out time to think about it,

Your time is limited, so don't waste it living someone else's life. Don't be trapped by dogma - which is living with the results of other people's thinking. Don't let the noise of others' opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition.- Jobs

Love,

Me

P.S. Happy Birthday, You’ve grown an year older, not an hour richer.Sigh.

An Open Letter to Behavioural Sciences Dept.

Dear Behavioural Sciences Dept. ,

I’ve waited for four patient years giving you ample time to justify your existence in our lives. You, of course, miserably failed to prove any point. I am more than clueless, how, a woman some two years elder to us, who knows shit about life, preach us, what life is. Who do you hire? High heels, fake accent, fucked up grammar, faulty sentence structures, over-smart , I-can-read-your-faces kinds? Who are you kidding? Back then, when we started off, I knew things cannot be that screwed and hoped, we, the student body may will learn something from this course. What did I learn at the end of these four years?

•        Chandrachoor  Singh is a better entertainer
•        I’ve wasted 70 hours of my life attending this crap

I tolerated the hyper-active girl-just-turned-woman faculty with her stupid teenage analogies and the desperation to sound cool, throwing the psychological jargons. Do you not understand, we happen to be adults and have different ways of living our lives, we have different priorities, we have differing definitions, how can you preach us, what to do and what not. Yes, I am telling you to shut up. It’s high time. Are you normally that stupid or are you deliberately being obtuse? Today, in the final exam, when you asked me to define the term ‘society’, I wanted to tell you how screwed you guys are and that, even a single-celled amoeba can fucking mug up and answer the definition and still not know what it is all about. How can you prove to be yet another disappointment in life ? It’s a freaking failure of civilisation itself! Guess what, I stopped giving a fuck, like everything else in the world that’s screwed, why am taking pains to write this to you? Because you, Behavioural sciences department, accepted a journal that said, *Nationalism is militant in nature*. I, and my fellow mates can forgive you to fuck up with our brains, not , with the nation. Here’s advising you to attend Osho’s lectures. He’s pretty awesome and get things straight in your head. I hereby boycott all your grades, for you have lost all the respect and rights to grade me on my behavioural sciences skills. I hope I’m being fair, unlike you, ofcourse.

Sincerely,

A Victim

How may I abuse you ?

Dear orange woman,

As Dogbert says, ‘How may I abuse you ‘ ? The way you raped my personal space and stood unperturbed, sans any guilt in your eyes and blatantly shameless, in the metro, the other day. I could decipher your non-linear sexual orientation and I, trust me, I totally understand your state. Totally. Although, let me put this in very clear words, your behaviour pissed me off to the core, to the order of this. And woman, even if you were John Abraham  Virat Kohli , I wouldn’t want you that close to me. My personal space is more important to me than my super awesome stud bag that I carry  K  And who were you, to me? An orange woman who forgot to wear her deo that day? And swear to your god, you didn’t do it on purpose. I mean, fetch me a 5-year old and he’d know how to behave, better. Who are you? The only living person on earth? I mean trust me, the golden embroidery on your kurti or whatever-that-was , left  a hideous impression on my left arm which still pains. Imagine. Where do you shop from? Well, that’s your concern. Next time, please stay away. I believe I am still a young girl and not yet hopeless with the opposite sex, I still have some good 20 odd years before I acknowledge any feelings from your side, the day I change my mind, I swear , you’ll be the one I’ll think about .Guess what? After travelling in the Delhi metro’s womens’ coach I realise the significance of one arm’s distance queue which looked redundant back then, in school days. Surely, you learn some things from experience. So I dropped in to humbly request you to quit doin’ whatever-shit you did to me the other day, it fucks up your mind and unlike you, I think about humanity and my fellow travellers. And lady, if at all you had some odd intentions, why metro, in the mid of thousand other people? Public display of anything is not my kinds, there are places, lets exchange numbers? No? Sad . Are you humiliated enough? Or should I offend you more? I hope you get the drive.

Yours Lovingly,

The girl in the blue dress

Dear Placement Officer,

Dear placement officer,

Shut the fuck up. No, Seriously.  Why don’t you understand the do-your-job-and-leave funda? Why do you have to open your mouth every every single time? What do you think, you add value? You sound intelligent? You look cool? You’re funny? Well, sir , if that is true then, I’d say, Mayawati has the best dressing sense in the world, Delhi is a home of gentle and grounded masses, Uday Chopra is the best actor in the world, India isn’t a hypocritic nation. You get the point? Your jokes are as sad as the lead actresses’ fucked up accent in a desperate attempt at humor in sab tv’s show, tarak Mehta ka ulta chashma, or even worse. No one in the world has done more damage to humanity, who trained you?  Osama Bin Laden? And what’s up with that air of arrogance around you ? You’re Aishwarya Rai? You are paid to get us placed, that’s your freaking job, stop sounding like you do us a favour. Last time I saw you, you were insulting a noble soul, who didn’t laugh at your supposed joke, get a life. Will you? What was the poor chap’s fault? He had a better sense of humor? Why on earth, are you always searching for audience to convey your crap? In this world, there are two kinds of irritants, one, who just look irritating, their very appearance, gestures, irritate the hell out of you, for instance, Tushar Kapoor. Two, the one’s who look irritating, talk crap.. like our lecturers, talk more crap.. like our politicians, talk more more crap.. like women in a kitty party and then is your category, you are frustration personified. Your very aim in life is to talk shit to the point that people commit suicide wait, is that a secret mission for population control? Whatever. And sir,  stop boasting the fact that you are on facebook and students disturb you as soon as you appear *online* on the chat. That, sir, makes you sound all the more stupid.Why did you freaking add all these students in the first place? And then you think you are some shah rukh khan with all that pseudo attention that means nothing. What are you? Some school going girl? And  your communication skills. What do I say? That pride in your voice with screwed up English, bad grammar, faulty sentence structure, makes you look nothing less than a delusional moron. Once upon a time, I respected you. Mind your ways for I may kill you anytime sooner. You are still alive because I and others are tolerant. My atheistic self pray the lord everyday to save me from your presence around. Shut up and do your job. Nothing personal, though.

Sincerely,

A Berozgaar

The search

That was the last time she saw him, tears in her eyes, pain in her heart, silence of shock and cry of helplessness haunted her soul as she saw him getting slayed by her brother. She saw his holy blood gushing out of his body and she died a thousand deaths .His palms were nailed to the wooden plank and his pain, she knew, knew no bounds. She had never seen him so weak, he was dying, dying for her. He did not fight back, he did not plea, he stood there like a stone, without a cry, sans any sign of pain, bereft a soul. She couldn’t see him like that anymore and prayed the lord to take his breaths away and relieve him of all pains and miseries. She wanted to run to him and kiss his pains away, but she was chained like an animal. She couldn’t even kill herself and had to see him dying a slow painful death. He was being punished for their love. A love that was their identities, that meant god to them.. Her faith was departing, her god was dying. Hours had passed and both of them kept looking into each others’ eyes, as if to bid good-byes. They wanted to hold each other for one last time. She wanted to feel his breaths before she turns into a corpse, she wanted to feel the warmth before everything turns cold forever. She wanted to shout but her cords seldom moved. She was dying within, of pain, of separation, of deceit. He fought till the last drop of blood squeezed out of his pale body and closed his eyes, which didn’t blink once in those 5 hours. He was gone. Forever. Something strong went into her, a tear trickled down her lifeless face and she never spoke again. She wrote him letters which remained the only pseudo communication she had with anyone. She was like a dead body to everyone else. One fine morning, she left her home, which had turned into a house off late, in search of a purpose, in search of a search , in search of finding herself back, in search of peace. In search of  life. She set forth on a journey alone, with a white plain gown on her body, pen and a writing pad in her hand. She was fearless, for she knew she had nothing to lose now. She slept under a tree, with beggars on the street, she slept in the temple and got raped by men, She knew no pain. As if she had ceased to feel. She did not find peace in the god’s home and moved on, she helped the diseased in the hospitals, she cried with patients and laughed with them. She taught kids. She wanted to feel her existence now. She travelled to unknown lands and distant places in search of something she didn’t know. She still wrote him letters, clueless of where to post them all. She still didn’t know what she was searching for. He was always there with her, within her. She lived with the birds and the fishes, she would lose herself in the mountains and the rivers and nothing else made her happy. She travelled to the woods and found peace in the sound of the resonating autumn leaves. She loved the music of the birds. She was lost physically and mentally. She crossed the seas and met people, she spent hours in the rain and felt herself alive. She visited the pyramids and lost herself in the mysterious stories of the past and slept under the open sky, counting stars and often finding him. She was convinced of the fact, that if she was at peace, his soul rests in peace. The only thing that excited her was contributing her bit to the society and justifying her existence and travelling to unknown lands. She felt the breeze on her lifeless face and felt alive. She wanted to capture nature’s beauty in her eyes but always failed. She had realised, she wanted to be a photographer. She worked at places, to earn money, so she can buy a camera. She didn’t eat from what she earned. She kept saving it, for she had a dream now. She wanted something from life and had a purpose now. She still travelled to places with a new vigour in her eyes and his eternal memories in her heart. And after 4 years of working at random places she bought herself a camera. And within a few years she emerged as the century’s greatest photographer. She made it more beautiful and alive and had a passion that kept her going, that still makes her travel to far far lands. She still loves him and their love was immortal and the letters, she left them all in some Church in France. He wasn’t in another world. He was with her, in her.And that’s how she was born again.

To the world,

Dear world
Get lost.
No, I'm not frustrated.I'm just normally plainly rude.What do you think? You'll screw things and get away with it? Every, every freaking time? If I were you, I would have commited suicide, for who I am. But well, you have killed your conscience, haven't you ? One day you play the evil metro, giving me all the pains in the world, the other day you do this and then you do something so gross that made me write this. Another odd day, you play the bald stinky faculty who is alive only to suck out blood from our bodies and see us rot till our last breaths. Today, you were an autowaala, I swear, I wanted to slap you, but then that's not me. Good for you, what did you think? my father is a minister who mints money day and night? This man has spent lacs on me, to set me off for a better life, cutting down his personal costs , and you, you want me to pay you extra because you can shout and mis-behave in the mid of the road ? Well, go to hell. I would have paid you extra if you were polite but well, go to hell again. I don't understand what is up with the world? why can't people be polite? Why is everyone talking like the mcd office clerks , you are frustrated? get a punching bag. Or fucking don't, that's your concern. All I ask for, is talk polite, and if you can't, f**k off. Seriously.Next time, I may lose my mind, apart from peace, and may, you know, just kill you. So do your work and go shout at your kids.I don't acknowledge any shit from anybody.
Sincerely,
The girl in Blue Converse

Dear Mr. Hazare,

Dear Mr. Hazare,

C’mon be a good boy now and eat. Or don’t, just stop creating a scene out there in the public. You do know the bill you’re proposing isn’t practical. Why this tamasha  ?  Stop behaving like a 5 year old adamant kid crying on the road, blackmailing the parents to get what he needs. This isn’t a good way to get the candy, is it? I mean,  fasting for the nation and making India corruption free and stuff is all fine, but you do know the bill isn’t the solution. Don’t you ?  I know the issue needs to be addressed but this isn’t the way. Tomorrow, any x y z will come out on the road and start blackmailing the government, the way you are. How do you expect the Jan Lokpal bill to pass the parliament? This isn’t an oligarchy, this is a government we chose. The people of India, its 1.2 billion masses chose. India remains the largest democracy in the world today. And you want a group of people to police everybody including the Prime Minister, ministers, judiciary, everyone? You want to give them powers of investigation and prosecution? Seriously?  You want a bureaucracy above a bureaucracy? How does that solve the issue? How do you know the Lokpal itself isn’t corrupt? You are giving tremendous powers to a group of people who can screw our prime minister too? Also, the lokpal essentially emphasizes on the fact that everybody is evil, the constitution, the democracy, the government, the PM, the house of ministers, the judiciary. I mean, give it a break. Indian masses are hyper active and emotional, they’d support anything that ends with a ‘Jai Hind’ or a ‘Vande Matram’ , we have had a glorious freedom struggle of over 150 years and we have grown up hearing stories of our struggle for independence, I don’t care how many people support you, they are there to contribute whatever they can to the country and over 70% do not know what Jan Lokpal is all about. So stop giving me the figures. You defy democracy and yet taking aid of democracy to sustain .And talking about corruption. Who isn’t corrupt? Aren’t the patriotic masses sitting there at Ramlila Maidaan corrupt? Have you never paid money to get your work done? Everybody is corrupt. The one who pays and the one who gets. You want to start a movement? Tell the people to stop bribing, whatever it takes. Get your work done in 20 days, but do not bribe. You do not need to wave the flags and cry Vande matram everytime to prove your patriotism. You do not need a Tamasha to contribute your bit to the nation and society at large. It’s high time, we stop blaming and tread the right path.

To every woman in the world,

I’m writing this for every woman in the world, for the ones who have been taken advantage of, who are the victims of eve-teasing, molestation or have been raped,  who still haven’t moved on or the ones who feel guilty of something they haven’t done. I write this as a woman who knows how it is like to be one of those. To begin with, the movies where they keep saying, woman’s body is a temple and once raped, she bears a stigma on her soul forever, she loses her chastity, her purity, they go on showing that the rapist must marry her for social acceptance. In many movies, the girl getting raped/ molested commits suicide. These movies are sick. Do not form any opinion based on such vice dogmatic narrow-minded bigotic male-centric shit, that they showcase. This is the saddest way of dealing this issue. We have been talking about women empowerment for years now, but no one knows how to go about it. No one can take initiatives but the women itself. Before a man or a woman, you are a human being with a life bestowed upon you, you are one of those million cells who could make it to life,winning the battle of the survival of the fittest. No one, absolutely no one can take that back. Not even you. You have the right to life. You have the right to live your life with dignity and honour, you are an individual who has his own identity. Things happen, shit-heads exist, if you cannot forgive, forget and move on. But do not let it happen again. No one can touch you without your will. You are no toy that any Tom Dick or Harry will come, play and fucking leave. They’d have to pay back, they must bear the consequences. Draw a line, the boundary, there are instances when people tend to cross that line, tell them to back off, don’t think twice. Stand by it. Gather strength, hold on to yourself, it’s all within you. Do something for yourself, respect your personal space and communicate this to others very clearly. It’s your life and you know whats right and whats not. For a woman, right from the time she attains her puberty or even before that, she has to protect herself, she has to protect her self-respect , she has to balance her changing physical, biological self with the way society looks at her. Maybe because she has a great responsibility of creating life, of giving  birth, of taking the human race ahead and protecting it from getting extinct. But before that, she must know the world and understand all the evils. She must stand up for herself,for her basic human rights and have the courage to tell the bastard that he will be punished for what he did. Trust no body, not even your brother, you’re safe nowhere. Don’t look vulnerable, pretend to be strong, if required. Don’t let people cross that line, no body. Respect your personal space. And clearly understand, whatever you do not want, should not happen. No human being can touch you if you do not want them to.  Don’t be guilty of something you haven’t done, stop suffocating yourself and start standing by your morals, gather courage to fight back. Don’t be a mute victim, that’s our biggest failure as a society. Tell those barbarians that they are wrong and you’ll not be quiet anymore. Always be circumspect, ignorance, as I always say, isn’t bliss. Escaping isn’t the solution. Fighting back isn’t easy,but in life, there will always be choices between what you know to be right, and what is easy.The right may seem tough when you face it, but in a few years time you will realize that taking the right path has made your life easier. Nothing is ugly or dirty, nothing is black, leave the dark behind and you’ll see a 
world waiting for you with open arms and the respect that you deserve .Life is precious. Life is beautiful.


The woods are lovely, dark and deep
But I have promises to keep
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

That itch

Today as I write this,I am not at peace, I have no idea what would follow.I have chosen a world for myself where I don't fit in, I feel like an early man stuck in the world of technological advancements and revolutions. I need to step back, hold on and surrender myself in the arms of nature. I wish I had all the time in the world, the way Charles Darwin had and found the love of his life and the courage to escape the worldly webs and societal norms and do what I desire.I want to travel to far off places, to distant lands, to ward off this air of shallow existence , to understand what is real, what is beautiful, to that old light-house, I want to watch the oceanic waves dance, I want to live on the beach. I want to drive for miles and feel the wind slapping my face and taste true freedom.All, I ask for is a camera, pen and a paper and well, a million dollars to travel the world.I want to get lost in the woods and capture a volcanic eruption, or a hurricane. There are very few instants when nature allows man to experience and observe the forces that shape our earth, I want to be a witness to such a magnificent event.I want to be a storm chaser ! I want to find peace in worshiping nature,the destroyer and preserver of human race, I want to tell the world that we, as a species stand no-where in this infinite universe.We are like microscopic creatures, which'd fade away like an ant dies an uncertain death.And still, nothing will change. Ours will remain a thoughtless meaningless existence. So 10 things I'd want to do before I die would be

• Serve our nation in whatever way possible.I donno how. Yet.
• Travel the world, as I keep saying, with a camera, pen and a paper
• Study Earth Sciences and chase a storm
• To be able to meditate. Multiple attempts, failed. Has to happen in very near future.
• Live near a water body, river, lake , pond , away from everything and everyone else.
• Learn to use the reverse gear in a car. Yes.Also, learn urdu, violen 
• Tell people to shut up, the masses.
• I want to play the Anil kapoor of Nayak, the movie in real ! sigh

And so on, It's not 10 yet.. is it ? Anyway I'd update the list, maybe some other day. What would you like to do before resting in your sarcophagus ?

I leave you with a poem of Sahir Ludhianvi,

Ye mehelon, ye takhton, ye Taajon ki Duniya

Ye Insaan ke dushman samaajon ki duniya

Ye daulat ke bhooke riwaazon ki duniya

ye duniya mil bhi jaaye toh kya hai ?

Har ek jism ghayal, har ek rooh pyaasi,

nigaahon mein uljhan, dilon mein udaasi,

ye duniya hai ya aalam-e-badhawaasi

ye duniya mil bhi jaye toh kya hai?

Yahan ek khilona hai insaan ki hasti

ye basti hai murda praston ki basti

yahan par toh jeevan se hai maut sasti

Ye duniya mil bhi jaye toh kya hai?

I don't know how, I don't know why,

It doesn't even matter how hard you try

Dear Freshers,

Now, that you freshers have joined college, you need to know the fundamental differences.

1. Don’t think about ragging, no one cares to rag you, lot of effort, no fun.

2.If you have ever watched Ekta Kapoor’s daily soaps showing colleges and likes, no, no one sings here in red duppatta and silver heels in the mid of nowhere. You’d be stoned to death.

3. The excuses you gave in schools about traffic and stuff, turn real here but the teachers don’t buy it. Yes, it’s like a god-like thing punishing you for your deeds. Uh Anyway,

4. Generally, there’s no mutual respect between the student body and teaching staff. Except that the students feign respect for faculties, faculties don’t even bother doin’ that.

5. Forget Robert Frost, don’t go the unconventional way, follow the masses. Either way, your life is screwed.

6. You can never make it to 9:15 lecture even if you start at night. Stop trying.

7. Unlike in school where in a protective environment, teachers keep kicking your asses to get the work done. Here, no one cares, you don’t do it, you’re done.

8. Teachers come and go, only yours and theirs, incompetence remains constant.

9. Don’t ever get de-barred in Behavioural Sciences. Don't let the lady, some 2 years older to you, flaunting bad grammar and f***ed-up pronunciation, tell you what life is about. Figure it out yourself. Trust me she’s equally screwed or prolly more.

10. Learn to be a hypocrite. Yeah.

11. Pretend you’re passionate about Sciences and technology and how it changes lives and makes things simpler and stuff even if you don’t give a shit.

12. Don’t tell people you’re an engineering under-graduate, they’d tell you to repair their light-bulbs, only to add to your frustration.

13. Tell people your engineering drawing sheet holder is a missile launcher and if touched, may explode. 78% buy that, true story.

14. There would be infinitely many incidents in your life when you would want to reply a long long speech/lecture/personal philosophy of a lecturer with ‘whatever’ or ‘shut up’ or ‘dude, get a life’ ,but dear kids, hold on there. Take, how-to-be-a-fake-listener classes from miss So**m Su*****i, instead.

15. Think stupid, act foolish, play cool. That’s the key.

16. Vivas.. well I’d rather write another post for that.

That said, college is fun. All the best ! Remember, life after death, sucks.

Itne armaano ki bankar kabr, khadi hai zindagi

When the most sacred things in life turn ugly, when the light at the end of the tunnel turns out to be a train coming your way, when all you're left with, is nothing.What do you do? It's like the big crunch, as if all the laws of  physics and science are defied by one such truth.As if everything has ended and even if it has not, it doesn't matter.When nothing matters.When that one question haunts you till the time you depart.When you know the dark is an inevitable truth, a truth you wish to escape. When ignorance isn't bliss, when running away is a pain.The moment when there's no land beneath you and no sky above.What do you do? When the words can neither stay within, nor can they come out. When the pain keeps coming back to you over and over.The moment when you wish, there was a god.An ideal god, who knows it all. The moment when you want to get back to your 3 year old self and wish to begin it all over again.When there's a war within and peace around, the peace which ain't comforting. When you wish you could shout and break that silence. That moment when you can't pretend anymore.When the pain doesn't let you live and the laws of nature doesn't let you die.You wish you had the answers, you wish..
You wish..killing wasn't a crime.You wish..

The Bollywood thingy

Last weekend I risked my life again when I decided to watch another bollywood movie after Shaitaan.Long back after watching Rab ne bana di jodi, I had lost hopes in humanity and wanted to die.True story.Watched Zindagi dobaara na milegi something,I don't like the name, too long and complex sentence structure , the movie wasn't bad though.Was good in parts and boring. The scenes move at Ekta Kapoor's daily soaps' pace or  probably slower. You can go home,cook sambar rice and come back only to find the scene is still on.Seriously.But, well F*** that, it's okay.I don't understand what makes people laugh so much? I mean, the masses were laughing their asses off at I don't know what.If at all, the dialogues were funny, they can at most make you smile, but screw that.The most awesomest thing on earth happened, the shayari/kavitas of Javed Akhtar.I am so in love.It balanced out everything.It left me in awe. That's a trick you know, there's a threshold above which the viewers switch to emotion high, after that give them any shit, any non-sense, they'd accept that with open arms, give them a Ram Gopal Verma ki movie, and they'd call it beautiful.They seldom analyse,that's the best trick in the business.No, really.I appretiate the intelligent direction. When you make a business, you must know your audiences' weaknesses, I mean , Taare zameen par left people over-whelmed and in tears and what not , I liked the research and the content and I could feel the extra drama they'd  desperately put in to make the masses cry and make them cross the threshold. And it so magically worked. But well, who cares. Jo beet gayi so baat gayi. Btw, andaaz apna apna, Shivaji-the boss, Doodh ka karz , Taikhana , many many many nameless movies that I've seen are class apart. If you haven't watched 'em, dear readers, you haven't lived your life. More on these, later !
p.s. Go watch zindagi milegi etc and call it awesome.

Fooled By Randomness

I was told to write about our very own Delhi, I thought rather than the bitchiness and the cliched negativity associated with it, I'd write about everything I like love about Delhi.I'd write for people and spread-the-positivity crap. When I completed the write-up, I was told it looked like wikipedia with emotions.I read it all again only to find,it did ! I wrote about some awesome places and monuments here and ended it with an emotional nostalgic note.It looked funny to me later. I've always abhorred the barbaric masses ,one should be taught to shut up and behave themselves.The buses and the roads are awesome, people in it and on it are tards .I've come across many people from different parts of our country, talk about, how screwed and vice, Delhi is.And I would always, almost get impulsively disgusted hearing things.I've always lived in denial.Now, I know it’s not Delhi, it's the people. We are not going global, we're all behaving like a 5 year-old ill mannered kid.  You don't believe me? Drive for an hour here, you'd know you're in Delhi when people are ready to shoot you on your face because you were *about to* hit their vehicle. When, more than Hindi, English or any other language, you'd get to hear, 'Saala BC'. When toddlers play the dude saying, 'you talking to me? talk to the hand.'(personal experience). You know you're in Delhi when you see children, more on streets begging, than in schools.Not to forget,they get you hitched to an absolutely random stranger and bless you to have kids. It's plain sad. .I know not what is up with people, what is so wrong? Why can't even the adults behave? Leave aside, the teens, they're a different class altogether. That reminds me, read this article, does everything sound cliched? Are you surprised? why/why not?The statistics ofcourse are exaggerated,but I’m surprised by the fact that I wasn’t surprised. Here in Delhi, kids learn the lesson of relationships before division and subtraction.I can’t write anything that is beyond me, anything that is pseudo-optimistic, I am pretty f***ed up, you know why?

The Delhi Metro : I have never seen anything made from the scratch and making a revolution in itself,an engineering marvel.A blessing to the delhiites. But, the commuters? What is up with them? You’re a Phd? Masters in Computer sciences? You know economics? Awesome..But you can’t behave yourself in the public, screw yourself. Seriously. I’ve realized, education is useless. We’ve built nations, we develop technologies. We innovate, we ideate but alas, we’ve grown from ape to ape-like masses. If you know what I mean.Coming back to the point.If you’re in the womens’ coach in the metro rail,you’re surrounded by wolly mammoth, quite literally, aunties who would even sparkle in the black hole,given their shimmery orange suits and gold make-up .Well, that’s their business ,they’d tell you to adjust thinking their body weight is as small as the time, Chandrachoor Singh stayed in the industry.And within 23 nanoseconds they’re on your lap, not to forget the difference between your body weights is well, infinity.Then you get embarrassed and your tissues start dying, you choose to get up, instead.As you stand,a kid, whose mother got married when she was 10 and gave birth at 11 and knows shit about parenting, comes to you and starts pulling your bag unless he manages to disbalance you and add to your frustration, the mother stands there smiling, thinking the damn kid is cuteness personified. That moment, my friends, you can’t do anything but smile at the kid in helplessness  wanting to slap him so tight as if you are Rakhi Sawant and the kid, her ex .Your home is another 20 stations to go, you decide to text your friend, and as you type, some 20 females around, start peeping at your phone’s display so desperately as if we are all guys and watching some,well forget it. It finally gets awkward and you keep the darn thing in your pocket. Simultaneously, the female standing just adjacent to you is checking you out from tip to toe and her expressions look like you’re wearing purple tee with green jeans and yellow footwears. The woman next to you wants to hold the handle very badly given the fact, if she falls it’ll take her centuries to rise again.So, she doesn’t understand the concept of personal space and is so close to you as if she’s the pda guy but hold on, 'ma’am why can’t you take a shower atleast before boarding? Is it too much to ask for?Or wear a deo? And since I see some space there, would you please shift, I’m very very straight and I donot like your body touching mine in whichever way.' You’re still struggling for a place to fit in, when suddenly a girl in her teens start shouting at her guy on the phone.No,she cannot do it in isolation.She has to do it in public.She's probably practicing to participate in the Jerry Springer show.Whatever,it is,pda is tolerable,public display of aggression,isn't. You wish, you could kill her vocal cords and tie her to the men’s loo of the Rajiv Chowk metro station till her nostrils cry for help.Nothing personal against her, though.In fact, dear readers, Metro is an ideal example of the Darwin’s Survival of the fittest, they’ll walk on the dead if needed. They’ll slaughter you for a space.That said,look what my friend says,here.So precise,ain't it? I feel light now, and yet another time, owing to my incompetence to end my posts, I'd leave it with a rough end.My apologies.
Cheers!

Happy Birthday !

He turned 50 today,  I haven’t seen him grow though, he was always like this, always the same. Although,he has become more quiet. Back in my childhood days, he used to run and laugh and dance and play,I wonder why he lost it.Probably because hes growing old. Sometime back I had an ill-health and whatever I ate made my stomach, ache. He, after detailed analysis and interpretation, got to know what should I eat in what proportions to avoid that pain. He  always device new techniques and rules that magically fit in and work. I never understand. Never  understood. He does not tell me what he did for me, he does not tell me he’s in pain and wants help, he does not tell me to shut up when I get on his nerves, he does not tell me to get lost when I shout irrationally resorting to my post-teenage tantrums. His life is boring but he’s at peace with himself. I, on the other hand, have everything that a human my age, has but I keep cribbing about things #DelhiMetro #travelling #internship #classes every li’l thing. He never complains. Come what may, I’ve never seen him complaining. His silence tells me I am wrong and need to change. Some weeks back, I was in college and I had forgotten to fill some online form as usual, without a thought I called him up, I didn’t ask him if he was busy or preoccupied with something else. I told him to fill it at that very moment at any cost ,it was the last date and hung up. In the next  7 minutes he called me up to tell me it’s done and that he has a very important lecture to deliver and is already late. He hung up. That reminded me, he had been preparing that lecture for a week now and is very important. Why couldn’t he shut me up? When some meal oddly goes short at home, he tells us he doesn’t want to eat it. He’s like a kid. He’s happy when everybody around is happy.If there was any god, I wouldn’t have respected him as much as I respect this man. He has taught me many many lessons of selflessness and unconditional love. Just when I thought these words are fiction, I saw him redefining them for me.I promise to beat you in chess in another 2 years time :D

Happy Birthday, dad J

True Story

Recently we were supposed to get registered for the summer internship,2011.We all reached college, fighting all the odds(well, in a metro), heat, sweat, women (yes), infinite duration journey, fussy auto wallas, street beggars who get you married to a random stranger on the road and bless you both to have kids.Ridiculous, I mean.We all reach the corporate resource centre(flashy but void) of our department with a sense of accomplishment, but before that, a li'l background on how-stuff-works.Getting registered for such a thing is as futile as watching Rakhi ka swayamwar for the heck of it.So, as we enter, theres a white colored lady and an orange man, both bitching about their mothers-in-law (yes,both).Heres how our conversation proceeded-

Us (all smiling and gay): Good Morn Ma'am. We wanted to get registered for the Summer internship.

White lady: (Turning red, dramatically unties her hair, starts looking like Durga,the goddess) WHAT THE PHHAAACCCKKK.HOW ARE YOU GUYS EVEN ALIVE? MANN

Us: Umm, water and oxygen and well, other million things. Why do you ask?

WL: FOOLS, Don't you know getting registered is the most important thing on earth, forget global warming, stop saving water; hypocrites do that,fuck non-renewable sources of energy.Corruption? Who cares? We're all corrupted.Baba Ramdev? Who is he? Government? Ahh.. why would we bother, it's a sucking monarchy.F*** y'll , YOU DID NOT GET REGISTERED YET? HOW DARE YOU?

Us: But Ma'am. We have a democracy.Err..As in, we didn't know about the registration and bla bla *regular excuses* (We're all thinking, is it that big a deal? )

WL (her blood boils and she's about to transform into spiderman, from the looks of it) OMG you guys are foolishness personified.GOD WHY, WHY ME

Us: Ma'am .. umm (we're all numb and confused and standing motionless looking dumb) Could you tell us the exact procedure to get registered? I mean c'mon.Big deal. Cut the crap and Shoot.

WL: You guys should commit suicide.Seriously.

Us: Any other option? 

WL: Pay 500 Rs, late registration fine . 

Us: Ahh, now you're talking.

After getting abused by a dozen other men, we get back, 

Us: Here's the receipt.

WL:( I see a 500 ka note in her eyes, she starts gleaming).MORONS, get a life next time.GO DIE NOW.

Us: The registration?

WL: It's Done.

Us: Don't you maintain records or make us sign somewhere?

WL: HELL NO, GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE, y'll are registered now.Waise bhi I'm a random stranger.Don't work here.Just filling the gap.

We were all unarmed and silently moved out.Thanking god (yes,god) that no one else was around and we are all breathing.

P.S : The Orange man was Ekta Kapoor's make-my-life-spicier b****.

Dear random relative

Dear stranger relative,

Please stop asking why I didn't turn up at your son's wedding.Before this day I didn't even know your name and that your son existed.My naive parents think you give a shit and make my life shittier resorting to emotional blackmails.Seriously, it's perfectly sweet if you don't ask that. Both of us here know you don't care any bit,why pretend? It's like Ramdev talking about black money and justice.I mean we've both grown up since the ooohhh-you've-growwnn-soo-big-gawwwdd era, get a life this is the fucking first time we've met.It's time to move on and let go of things which do not matter. I mean c'mon on top of that you expect nice gifts, now our diwali gift stock too, is exhausting and the wrapping papers are freaking creased ! Also, wrapping is an issue to give it the new and just out-of-the-shop look.And that look on your face when you see us *all* present, exactly reads, f*** you all, 4 plates down,Holy crap !I prefer eating in 4 plates myself,one for the main course,another for the desserts, one to just appretiate the beauty of the plate and another for salad.You wouldn’t want me there, would you? I saw your son next to the pink lady, he looked terrified and cherry on the cake you had parade of strangers lined up for the oohh-congratulations-I'm-your father's-uncle's-daugheter's-cousin.Pehchaana? thing. Poor guy.And the wedding invitation, **please grace the occasion by your presence and bless the couple as they become one and set forth for a new life.. blah blah** Honestly, didn't you get that poor guy up there at the gun point? Didn't he love his college gf, Champa ? You obviously threatened him of honor killing, didn't you? I mean look at him, its alll over his face, and the poor photographer tryin’ to make the pink bride, who can't even move her facial muscles,laugh.Anyway thats your thing.Pretend in a less obvious way, seriously. Let us both live in harmony and peace and keep the parents away from this business.Deal? Hope it makes sense.

Yours lovingly,

Random relative

Jo beet gayi so baat gayi

But before that, I need to crib. 

My computer's hard disc crashed recently which meant I lose all the data, everything I wrote and hadn't saved on the net/hadn't posted here/ hadn't email-ed to anybody. I've lost my hand, it feels. I lost the awesomest things on earth, the documentries of the discovery channel, history and national geographic and some random ones that my generous kind-hearted philantrophic cousin bestowed upon my computer and making it cow pure. Holy shit, I've lost it all, other relevant/irrelevant stuff includes random stupid videos, songs that we downloaded for free with so much effort and time for so many years now.You shouldn't bother doin' all this in the first place. Live a life of a moron instead.When your thing crashes, you'd feel good.Or I'm probably too unstable right now.Either ways, technology always wins,machines are evil.And technology has always betrayed me since day 0 of space and time.I swear.All the photos which were exclusively clicked for our very own facebook vanished. Alas, how, now will we upload random photos daily in our profiles and think people'd care. Sigh. Anyway, I'm done.

P.S. Whoever said talking your mess out helps, was a freaking moron. It doesn't.

Theres no such thing as know-it-all

I recently read a nice article, it points out how some people are scared to ask questions because of the fear of looking stupid.I have had that fear all my life and when I come to think of it, I feel stupid. I mean aren't you one of them? Asking questions is an awesome habit, you get to know so many things, your learning curve grows and that is the aim, ain't it? ..I've always settled for what was told and suppressed every question that crossed my mind. Anyway, what has happened has happened, next task on the list.. I'd begin to ask questions even if they sound silly or infact, are silly.Tis' graphic from Indexed. Ain't it good ?

It's a stupid world.

I couldn't be more hypocritic, pointing out how screwed our professors are and going back only to mug up what shit they taught.I take back, whatever I've talked about them, with an apology, in the following posts- An open letter to you, sir, open-letter-to-my-colleges-director, professors, Letter to god

You don't mind doin' mindless things which lasts for a short duration in space and time. But, these exams have unveiled a crude reality that I'm pretty much ashamed of.They make me feel shallow, cutting me deep through the soul. What am I (are we) doing ? If I have to, have to, operate any odd equipment, wouldn't I just go through it's specifications in 5 minutes ? Why on earth am I mugging up such baseless-soul abusing things ? Ask yourselves, what do you know ? and your dead conscience will not let you live. It's a stupid world. Plain stupid world. I wanted to kill myself for wanting to enter the rat-race only to realise, I'm already dead. I died the day I stopped listening to my inner voices and instead, resorted to what the world had to say.The last thing I ever learnt was my 4th grade math. Why are we so shit scared to the soul? And all we can do is, own a facebook account, play pseudo cool.. typing sms lingo and making fun of each other;making desperate attempts to sound intelligent, grabbing an audience of 10 people and bribbing them to 'like' whatever shit we uploaded.Does that satiate your hunger ? What do we have to offer to the world ? Do you have a dream ? Have you ever thought beyong the monthly salary ? beyond the package, you're offered ? If at all, would you ever follow your dreams? Are you pursuing something, only because your elder sibling did it? Do you have a sense of identity? Do you have a name? or are you just a face in the crowd? Do you lead the masses or do you follow 'em ? Do you know what you're doing? I don't. I'm ashamed of the fact, that I've let the world, corrupt my ability to think.It's a freaking sad world, people are busy telling others what is right and what is not.It's a hypocritic society, talking loud supporting Anna Hazare and bribing the college's security guard, to the say the least. Are you not corrupted ? I am. I don't want to die a nameless death, nobody will remember whatever you did (didn't do) for the world. Take time to think what you want and not what others are doin' , if at all. I still wish, I had a dream and a courage to follow it beyond the odds.I wish I could break the conventions.I wish I could tell the moral preachers to shut up on their faces and tell them to get a life of their own. We are a sorry lot. I wish, I hadn't lost my sense of humor.

p.s. Probably, not true for all. True for me.Each word.  An open letter to you, sir

Peace and War

That Calm on the face

And the fear within;

That crystal wine

And the chaotic mind;

That silence

before the stormy wind;

That stillness after

the catastrophe;

That ease 

after a scary eve;

Understanding life

and losing self;

That peace around 

And war within..

.

She was 8 and if you were to personify life, she was it. She was life. Her  parents’ life. Miriam, with her chubby cheeks, rosy lips, dimple chin was everything the poems described and more. She was the darling of everybody’s heart, at home, in the neighbourhood, in her school everywhere. She created an aura around her that no one could escape. Her sweetness charmed everybody. She was a beautiful dancer, she mesmerised everyone with the calm on her face and a grace in her moves. She did not understand life beyond dance, to her the world was the happiest place, she loved every human being she came across. She was good to everyone and everyone was good to her. She cherished every sound of music inside her mind, she loved the sound of the seas, chirping of the birds. Miriam loved nature, she played violin, and her music was as innocent as she was and as pure as her heart. She loved to play in the gardens with her folks and would oft be lost in her own beautiful ideal world, she carried the fragrance of the flowers with her, the sight of green grass, the smell of the dew, the independence of the flying birds and that’s how she thought the world to be an ideal heaven for her. She did not know back then that the flowers too are, fake. That behind the smiles there are tears too. She did not know that growing up is difficult and the crude reality, harsh. Miriam could never figure out why her parents were so protective for her. She always thought, shes a nature’s child and the world is good and bright. Everyones happy and there was nothing/ no one that’d harm her. She didn’t know there are boundaries and wars, murders and  gore. Miriam was growing up, unable to reconcile with what was taught in the school, with what her parents told her, with what she saw. It was a different world. A world she had never thought of. Her dreams and fantasies began to crush. Those unspoken dreams in her young mind got buried deep inside. She buried them so deep that it became difficult to breathe .All this was a turmoil in her life, and when she settled with it, by the age of 13, she noticed something she had never experienced before, she was growing up, she remained the same, things around her changed. Her parents told her to sit in a certain manner, talk in a certain manner, dress up in a certain manner, walk in a certain manner. And yet another time she began to feel the restlessness within her. She was changing physically biologically socially psychologically and could not adjust with her changing self. She did not know what a woman is, all she knew was she hated herself as a girl. She wanted to get back to her child hood, she wanted things to be simple and less complex. And she started understanding her parents’ fears and suddenly the protectiveness for her started making sense to her. Years passed and Miriam was at ease with herself. She had accepted and adapted it all. She was at peace with herself. She had turned 15, and knew more life than her 8 year self. She started understanding it. Her mother had quite a many acquaintances. She’d take Miriam along and Miriam, as was her nature, enjoyed company of everyone. She was a merriment child. Always cheerful,  always happy. It was a sunny Wednesday afternoon, Miriam had just got back from school after a hectic day. Her mother told her they had to visit her maternal grandparents’ place and they’d be leaving in an hour. Miriam had never been there, never met them but she was very excited to. It was a 12 hour train journey and filled Miriam’s heart with elation. When the train passed the cornfields Miriam felt something inside her. She felt she was weightless and gliding in the wind like a flower. Miriam was in high spirits and the train journey was a cherry on the cake. In a moment Miriam thought life could not be any better and nothing, absolutely nothing can harm her. She wanted to be in that mind state forever. She sat by the window for hours, watching the fields, the nature, observing people and getting inspired. And finally the wait was over, she had reached there. The name of the place was new to her, she had never heard about it even in her social studies class. As she reached the home, she noticed the strange old non-uniform architecture. She was in awe with the size of the house. It was massive. Miriam had always lived in a metropolitan city and they owned a small flat. There were many many rooms there and all new faces with a warmth in their smiles and glitter in the eyes. Miriam couldn’t be any happier. Hours passed and Miriam and her mother were separated. Miriam had no idea where her mother was, she was busy playing with a dozen kids and she had no idea who they were. Her mother knew Miriam was safe, playing in the house somewhere.

Suddenly Miriam came across a man, She hadn’t seen him on the entrance when they arrived. She was here for 5 hours now and this was the first time she saw this man. He came near Miriam and greeted her. Miriam with a pause, greeted him back. As she turned back to her new folks, the man called her back , “Miriam ! do you like watching the T.V. ?” he asked modulating his tone. “Yes, but I like playing more” she replied at once. “Come with me, I’ll show you my guitar and T.V. I got a new one and I bet you wouldn’t have seen anything like this before”, he said with a slight desperation in his voice. ‘O.k let’s go then’ Miriam agreed with a curious voice. He held Miriam’s hand and Miriam followed in silence. They reached a dim lighted room with minimal things and dusty floor, Miriam looked around, not feeling very well. Somewhere from that room emerged a flight of stairs to a place which looked darker and even more remote. Miriam felt something in her stomach, “Up there child, it’s great out there, no one to disturb, we can watch T.V for hours. Come”. Miriam, despite his sweet voice felt something wrong, she could smell it but followed him anyway. Up there, was an isolated room at the roof top and there was no one there. She could not hear the voices of children playing, which she could hear everywhere in that big house. This thought disturbed her.

He unlocked the room, and they entered. She looked around. There really was a guitar, Miriam regained herself, she went straight and lifted the guitar, ignorant of everything else around. Happily she turned back, asking “Do you know how to play this? I love the instrument” to which he, with a strange smile and glitter in his eyes, replied, “yes yes, I do. Come let me teach you”. He came near her, held her tight. Miriam looked at him, scared. He started touching her at inappropriate places and Miriam started resisting with tears in her eyes and pain in her heart. She felt ditched. At once she looked at the door, it was shut and locked. She pushed him, he came back. She tried escaping but failed terribly. Her pain grew, knowing no bounds while she felt helpless. She tried shouting but the man was way too much for her. She was a small girl, she didn’t even know what was happening, all she knew was, something very bad and gross is about to follow. She was exasperated and tired and helpless and was beginning to lose hope. She was thrown unwrapped in the blood. The devil inside him used her to satiate his hunger, she kept hoping her father, whom she loved with all her heart, all her life, would somehow get the signal and would come to rescue her, she kept looking at the shut door, praying the lord. No one turned up. She mourned in pain, nothing perturbed the man, her tears, her pain, her cry. Nothing moved him. He was a stone. The mask on him had unveiled. She felt she is like an animal, to which he is showing no mercy. She wanted to kill him. But little did she know, that everything inside her was dying. Her courage, her morals, her faith, her love, her respect, her self esteem, her self .He had left and she was still there on the floor, sans any cover. Her tears were dried. She did not move, did not blink, and as she wished, she did not want to breathe. She was still bleeding, She was still as a stone, patient; as a river, wet as a rain. The water seemed immovable, the stone, flowing. It was a pause more dynamic than motion. Everything  had changed. Miriam’s family came back  home. Miriam would stay alone, in isolation. She thought, she was damaged beyond repair. She wanted to shout, cry. She felt lifeless, soulless, she could not feel anything, anybody. Her virginity was lost and so was her trust, her faith, her passion for life, her real self. Nothing could cheer her up. She had a stigma on her soul. She was burdened with pain, She’d be ashamed to face her father and tell him the truth. She had changed. She didn’t dance anymore. She couldn’t hear the birds singing. She was dumb to every sound of the nature, to every music she cherished in her mind. She was getting academically poor and always lived with a  guilt. She thought she had lost her purity, her chastity. She thought everything inside her was dirty.

When finally she decided to seek her parent’s help, people started talking about it. Some empathised, some said she lied. Some believed it was consensual and some told her, her life is done. The psychiatrists told her, it’s okay and happens with majority of the girls, this fact didn’t make her feel any better. She avoided human interactions. She thought she’d never be able to get back to her real true self, back to the soul brimming with passion, a soul with life.

Years passed and as they say, time heals all. Miriam, knew now, that only she could help herself and nobody else. She was clear in her head that the man attacked nothing but her mental strength and she had to gain it back. She understood now, she was not to be blamed for whatever happened. She had grown up now, understanding life, things around her and herself. She had seen people suffering and she realised what she has been living with for all these years was nothing. She  knew now  she had miles to go before she sleeps. The guilt , the pain all vanished once she decided to move on, to unexplored places, to a journey that’d set her life straight. She started afresh with a brave heart and a firm determination in her head. She wanted to be somebody, she wanted  a  place in the world.She wanted her own identity. She wanted to reduce the suffering, the world was experiencing. She knew this was one life, you either make a trace or you’re out of the race. Miriam had finally found her lost self. She had gained herself back.

This was one Miriam, there are others too out there. The ones who haven’t got themselves back yet. Who still compromise on their self respect, their self esteem. Who’re still carrying the burden of someone else’s crime on their shoulders. Who fall prey to random people. Who let others, who’re not even worth a penny, disturb them, their state of mind. Life is real. Life is equally fair and equally unfair to all. You cannot escape your share. Find yourself, for you may lose yourself forever. No-one, absolutely no one deserves that loss. Life is one , and clichéd it is, Life is precious. Some day you’d know why !