On Redemption

Motionless she wrapped herself in one corner of her cocoon. The sound of the fan comforted her. Her eyes arrested by the painting hanging on the opposite wall, painted in white, as if to contemplate the meaning, of the painting, of life. She couldnt look back to the grim details of her past life that she wished to bury, the present was all she had, slipping every moment in the blink of a second, every moment fell upon her like a burn from the molten wax, never to return. She couldnt even think of the future, all she had was false sympathies, a fake picture of future, a picture of the future painted in the fog, she was too afraid to wipe it off to get a clear picture, she found peace in ignorance and solace in denial. Around her was blood flowing in all the directions as if to mark the territory, unperturbed she continued to stare at the painting, a fractal of many colors intricately merging in one another to form a meaning that made sense only to the artists. Her bodily covers were torn showing a part of her bosoms, she, however, sat like a statue motionless, emotionless. Her pain made her stronger and the faded hope was liberating. She had risen above the miseries of her life, naked and unbound. She could no longer feel the horror or the fear, she did not care whether the society will accept her the way she is, she felt an aberrant strength girdling around her. Yes, she was raped. Her sacrosanct body was harmed, as the society she lived in, put it. For the family she lived in this was a matter of immense shame, the winters of grief never seemed to end for them. She was always locked inside her dim lit room, sitting on the floor on one corner staring at the opposite wall, lifeless. People came out in the streets crying for justice, talking about respect, about honour, about shame. She did not feel anything, a void in her mind would often fill the gaps in her head that needed answers, reasonable answers. She had muted the voices in her head, she wanted to erase it all and welcome the spring with open arms. She wanted to rise above the agony and the trauma that she went through and always will, at the back of her mind because the time seems to progress but the wounds remain fresh, the wounds casted on the mind do not heal, they’re just hidden by other things, they’re just ignored among other things. She unwrapped herself layer by layer to cleanse her soul as if getting rid of a dead organ, she strip her shame and laid her soul bare in her words that she befriended and let herself loose on the white leaves that hadn’t seen the daylight resembling her soul that was in the dark for too long now, too. One day, she came out in the sun to put an end to the endless nights and gleamed in glitter. She made peace with herself and the world and wrote several books as if she was born to do it, to make the world a better place to live. She lived the rest of her life in eternal peace as an example to the millions. She fought her battles like a lion and welcomed the arrival of golden era in her life, progressing from the cramped holes to the vast blue skies.

On Love

Recently a very dear friend gifted me this book, The Prophet by Kahlil Gibran, read the lines below.

This is everything I’ve ever wanted to say, in all my posts, all my life and this dude, could say that in 10 lines straight. Epic, isn’t it? These are what writers are made of, clarity in head, thought, action and words, they don’t beat around the bush like you and I do. Coming back, if you do not understand these lines please contact me and if you do and don’t get over-whelmed, fuck you. Go back to your daily dose of Big Boss and celebrate somebody else’s screwed existence and feel good about it, also, fuck you. 

But let there be space in your togetherness,
And let the winds of the heavens dance between you.
Love one another, but make not a bond of love:
Let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your souls.
Fill each other’s cup but drink not from the same cup.
Give one another of your bread but eat not from the same loaf.
Sing and dance together and be Joyous, but let each one of you be alone.
Even as the strings of the lute are alone though they quiver with the same music.
Give your hearts, but not into each other’s keeping.
For only the hand of Life can contain your hearts.
And stand together, yet not too near together
For the pillars of the temple stand apart,
And the oak tree and the cypress grow not in each other’s shadow.

World, please end.

Dear God, if you’re listening to me, which you never do, please end the world. Yes, I had big plans of getting married to a rich bastard and spending the rest of my life in Switzerland writing my own book but there’s a slight change in the plan. I don’t really wanna live. If you have access to recent mishaps on earth, you’d know what I’m talking about.  I see everybody pointing fingers at everybody. I was indifferent to the news of yet another gang rape in Delhi, you know it’s a usual affair, apparently in our country a woman is raped every 20 minutes as per the statistics, surprising? No.  But when I got to know that Damini is battling for life, a streak of pain ran down my spine. I cannot begin to imagine the trauma the losers casted upon her. God, we are just dumb fucks ready to eat each other alive for the heck of it. I aint angry as I write this because something inside me is already long dead, every other mishap just validates the fact that we’ve failed humanity a long time ago,  our present is fogged and we’re moving towards the endless nights. Do you see the future of this race? I don’t.  I just see angry status messages on facebook and people claiming their blood boils on twitter and how rapists must be punished and law and order must be amended. But I don’t know how people will stop objectifying women, donno when will they start respecting women and their individuality. I’m told not to wear clothes that’ll encourage men to rape me, I’m told to not work after 8 pm, I’m told not to go out after 5 pm, they don’t tell men, not to rape. Is there any other solution?  It’s a funny society, aint it? I don’t know why you’re so lazy god, why can’t you reset it all and start all over again? Or else put some sense into them? What are you waiting for? If you think a miracle will happen and they’d wake up one day with enlightenment dawned upon them, you’ve gotto be kidding me.

Honestly, I’m shit scared. I’m a woman, for the records. I have seen men striping me naked with their eyes, I have been eve-teased, I have encountered men passing obscene comments on the streets, I know how it feels. The anger in the eyes of the people will eventually fade like every other thing and will be replaced by the next big thing in news. It’s all farce, and will soon be forgotten.

Are you sure you programmed us to be human beings and not wild animals? You’re not that efficient, are you? People over sell you and worship you like a god, lucky stars you have, dude.

God, you are a figment of imagination of a lot of people who like to fool themselves thinking that things will get better and talk about hope, why are you playing with them? Please tell them you don’t give a fuck.

Anyway, please let Damini live and recover her soon, if you’re remotely as awesome as much as you’re hyped, do this for humanity, recover her from the physical and the emotional wounds, tell her that it’s the ugliest place to be but good things do happen, tell her she has an entire life ahead of her and must move on with a brave heart and strong head. Tell her to be the torch bearer for all the women who’ve been raped or molested or fell prey to these diabolic shitheads and still carry that scar in their memories. Tell her that this too shall pass. 

I wish her a speedy recovery.

"No, not Nikitha"

I’m in Bangalore since 59 days now. Apart from misspelling my name, this city makes sure I don’t feel home-sick with lame auto-drivers and cheesy loafers on the streets, your opinion might differ from mine, but do I sound like I care? No. I don’t hate this city, but I do not like it either, yet. This post isn't about the insignificant details of my life, or probably is. Whatever. I’ve always been bad with changes, I fail to adapt to them, when I came here, my physical psychological stability was so fucked that I failed every attempt to write, any shit, I tried each day, and failed, nothing is more frustrating. I had no clue what it takes to live alone in a completely new city, I did not understand what shit bus conductors or auto-drivers spoke, and felt like an alien, did stupid things, got shit scared, cried when alone and repeated the same. I did not acknowledge the change, it was beyond me. People are different here, I’m used to Delhi’s bling culture, I’m used to the noise, the rush, the speed, everything here looked calm, everybody moving at their own comfortable pace, there isn’t any madness here. In Delhi, there was a familiarity even in the unknown faces, I could hate them, relate to them, here I can’t. It’s too early to talk about people here, but I know it’s not the same.  I’ve always wanted to move out and see the world outside my cocoon, I always wanted a freedom, emotional, financial, physical. Coming to Bangalore wasn’t only about a lame job, it was a part of a bigger plan. Freedom. I wanted to let go of my inhibitions, my fears, I wanted to come out of my comfort zone and face the world head on, with no one to cushion my every fall. I wanted to fall and stand up on my own, I wanted an emotional independence. I dream of a life that I live on my own terms answering nobody, owing apologies to nobody, a life that I can live with my head held high, where I decide what is black or white, rational or irrational, a life which gives me the strength for emotional independence. I came here with all these thoughts in my head, but little did I know that freedom is a myth, you detach yourself from something and become a slave to another, it’s like Heisenberg’s uncertainty but fuck it. I’ve realised, freedom is farce, you set yourself free and after sometime you’re trapped in your own definitions, in your own boundaries. So yes, growing up is a bitch, I can’t really afford the daily bread and wine without thinking twice, I wish I could go back to my careless existence, fuck up things and still escape it.  I wish I had a soul to relate to, apart from these four walls that confine my thoughts, these walls that hear me in silence, these walls that’ve seen me in my odds. I wish somebody could unwrap these layers of pretence that I burden my soul everyday with. I wish. I wish growing up was easier. I have no clue where I’d be 2 months down the line, but I know one thing’s for sure, there’s no looking back, I have to find the truth that I seek within, I want to work towards attaining happiness that needs no reason, I want to find my self-worth and well, try paying my own bills! I know I'd fall a lot but I hope I rise every time. 

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

Paralyzed self respect

If you've lived in India and come across girls who are in a relationship and cry all day or are living in a guilt, you'd know what I'm talking about. If you're an alien and your relationship status isn't 'complicated', you can happily skip.

Dear women,

I’m not writing this for you or anything, I do not care about your worries as much as I don’t care about Shahrukh Khan’s birthday, I write this because once I was you. As screwed, as fucked as you are right now and I knew it and I know that you know it too. Woman, when you’re in a relationship, stay rational. I know our very own bollywood shit fucks our heads and ruin our expectations and hype the love concept, but come to think of it, at the end of the day, the guy just wants to get laid, I don’t know about you, I’m yet to understand women, but guys are pretty simple in their ways. You know it too, don’t you? But, you’re too afraid to let him go because you think your life depends on him and if he leaves, your life will become an Uday Chopra movie (I promised myself not to use Uday Chopra analogy, but fuck it) so, let me tell you one thing very crisp and clear, this is all bullshit, nobody is worth it, lady. Whenever you’re in a relationship do not lose yourself, define your boundaries and give yourself some space, retain your individuality before anything else in the world, even if it’s your bf, husband, dad, mom, anyone. Nobody in this world is worth fucking your happiness for. No body. Respect yourself and the world will respect you, and if you think you are a loser, well you are one. 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 you will realize that taking the right path has made your life easier. You deserve respect, live to find yourself, to find the truth that you seek within, earn your own bread and live a debt free life, do not let others tell you what is white or black, live a life owing no apology to anyone. Before anything else, you are one human and you deserve equal respect and guess what? You have to earn it and stand by it, at all times or else, woman, you’ll be raped. For me, self-respect and self-worth are the most important things in life, I know I won’t die for anyone, I don’t care to judge people and their lifestyles, I write to you, because you’re huge in numbers and you must understand that you need to embrace the reality and let go off people and things which do not deserve to be there, people who’ve been fucking your happiness and paralysing your self-respect. You need to know, what you do not want to do, you ought not do, do not bend your rules even for god. Stop caring about the society which is a slave to wagging tongues, believes in character assassination and boasts about false morality. Do the needful.

You’re Welcome.

The PM's Independence day speech

Wake up fuckers. I know half of you will wake up only to realise the fucking parade happens on the 26 January. Every little soul who can’t even spell his goddamn name correctly accuses me of being reticent. You want me to talk? Hear me talk, now. Already, I cannot follow this fucking, too-good-to-be-true speech that my writers have fed me. I couldn’t care any less. As it is I’m addressing a nation that is totally and wholly fucked up. I've invested my entire life to go beyond the mediocrity, that you meaningless slimy shit-heads rot in, everyday and die a nameless death one day. What do you know about running a nation anyway? You guys rant all day on twitter because you had three meetings to attend in a day and crack lame jokes about everything on earth and keep retweeting that shit amongst yourselves and pretend having a life, you have epitomized shamelessness, you go on national television to take part in Ratan ka Rishta, you take part in Mtv Roadies and claim that your dream is to ‘become a roadie one day’, on that note, go make Vada Pao on your fake MBA degree and dance naked on national Television because that bald good-for-nothing Raghu Ram has told you so and display the epic case of paralysed self-respect of our country’s youth. You scribble your names on the goddamned walls of our national heritage sites ‘Bittu loves Pinky’ go get a room and cut my troubles already. I have to govern a nation where people are so horny, so much so that they can’t fucking control themselves and rape hundreds of women everyday, buy porn, download it for free online or just die. I’m tired of pretending, dudes. Kids keep committing suicide for the academic ‘pressure’ they face, what do you want me to do? Life isn’t a halua, teach your kids to take pressure, I can’t let people like Mayawati and Laloo run the nation, anymore.  You have sucked every ooze of happiness from my life and despite, being the laid back spineless losers, you guys cannot shut the fuck up. Our nation is so screwed that only an atomic bomb can fix it, I cannot begin to tell you how eagerly I’m waiting for December 23, 2012. Die you all, in hell.  Go ask your child what Independence day is and hear him say, when Ek Tha Tiger, the movie releases. Award him a tight slap, for the obvious. You talk about your nation and your pride and patriotism and outrage about the stupidest things on the face of this earth. Get a job already, contribute your bit for the betterment of the nation. Do that and then talk to me. You don’t even deserve to have a perspective and I need no validation from lesser minds like you, seriously. You have spent your life listening to your wife crib about the maid and how your parents do not leave her alone and how you have been such a dick-head and you have the spine to call me a loser. Wah! While I was still struggling with the damned 2G scam, CWG scam, coal scam, this scam that scam, these Anna and Ramdev are determined to kill me. They don’t just give up, I have seen those fuckers eat a Monaco biscuit in isolation but who listens to me? I even offered them my favourite porn but as they say, aapaat kaal, vipreet buddhi. So be it. And this Aamir Khan keeps sending me letters to do something about female foeticide, honour killings, food, water, and every other shit that has been corroding our roots since Pooja Bhatt lost her sanity. I can’t knock everybody’s doors and put some sense into their brains, I’m only human.  I’d give everybody who’s below the poverty line, a phone. And no, I don’t care how you’d get it recharged or how you’ll fetch the food or get a decent shelter or potable water and stuff. Beg or sell that thing off, I don’t care. Take it and shut up.FYI, my silence means I don’t give a shit. I know now why Soniaji declined the highest office of the country with an imperious wave of her hand. Damn! For the records, I went to the Oxford and excelled academically throughout and now, the economist in me is dying a slow painful death. You know, given my age, how difficult it is to run back and forth between governing the nation and asking Soniaji, what to do next. Sigh. Advaniji, remember you once called me a weak leader? And now you said, UPA2 is illegitimate, I was so heartbroken when the parliament forced you to take your words back, so sorry. This is the reason I talk so less, in this old age. You should shut up too. You angered Soniaji too and now I’ve employed Rakhi Sawant for her anger management classes. Coming back, you guys have a problem with my voice too, at least I don’t sound like Rani Mukherjee, my great grandfather’s broken radio sounded like her. Anyway, what do I do about the price rise? In the global economic recession, what do I do? What do I do? You don’t even have a fully developed brain to understand the concepts of economics, go and update your facebook statuses that you want to change the world and bring in reforms and logoff only to watch your porn. I know you won’t even bother listening to me, when half of the country will wake up with a hangover and clueless about why they’re home and not at office, I’d be here addressing the meaningless bigotic shitheads who kill and get killed in the name of religion and always have somebody else to put the blame on. Go tune in to watch Bhagat Singh, the movie and listen to Lata Mangeshkar and soulful rendition of A.R. Rahman’s Vande Matram and change your DPs to distorted tricolours and feel patriotic at homes while I, try making a little difference to the sea of shit and continue to rot in hell. Next time when you’re in trouble, don’t bother me. I’m done taking your shit. Spare me.

And yeah, Happy Independence day, losers. You didn’t earn it, you don’t know it.

Jai Hind!

Let the sun shine

‘You can’t do it, you’ll waste your time’ I was told when I was in tenth grade and decided to take up sciences. I didn’t score much and more often than not, I was below the average. If you have grown up in India, you’d know how scores decide your fate. It was a matter of life and death for parents, teachers, relatives and every other soul who wanted to spice up his/her life by poking his nose, but whatever. I started to try hard to fit in, that’s when the trouble begins. You don’t need to try hard. If you’re studying for scores, to get a fancy degree, or to earn lots of money, or for your parents’ pride, you’re doing it wrong. I always studied with a sense of shame at the back of my mind that I’m bringing shame to family, I was made to believe that. I studied without understanding the meaning of words, I read it all in a jiffy with a sole intention of scoring good this time, at least this time. At the same time, I had to prove my worth to the ones who mocked me and told me to opt out. But then, I tried too hard.

Around the same time, my brother gifted me a copy of ‘Surely you’re joking Mr. Feynman’ to say the least, it changed the way I looked at things. I had always known, I loved sciences.Probably more than anything else, more than anybody else. The fact that we are so small and insignificant in the face of universe and yet have unravelled the deepest secrets of nature always left be flabbergasted, of course I knew, one day they can all be proven wrong. You can only be sure that you cannot be sure. There are so many uncertainties and no absolute truth. I visited the mountains and the seas and somewhere amidst the colossal mountains and the silent seas, I could sense the thrust, I could feel the momentum, I could stand there all day in awe and could feel my heart skip a beat. Nature epitomised beauty and everything I saw could be reasoned, it was incredible to learn how mountains are formed and staggering to watch the sea roar, the tremendous amount of energy it holds and how it could destroy the sight of human species from the earth in a matter of few seconds. I realised we cannot ever know everything about pretty much anything. We can only know we are wrong. In our million years of existence we have discovered so much and yet, nothing at all. It’s like an onion, with million layers, you have to peel it off layer by layer, with patience, with passion, with diligence and yet with a constant uncertainty, and one day after all the travail you might learn that it has all been false. The fact that universe remains a mystery to us has always kept me glued to sciences. I knew, I couldn’t go back, I knew I won’t regret it. Ever.

I pursued engineering, because everybody else was doing it, I wasn’t forced by anybody. It looked like an only available choice with a fancy degree. Yes, only choice, is an oxymoron. There are always choices, you just don’t consider them. I graduated and became a bad engineer, a very bad engineer. I didn’t know there’s core science and applied science, engineering was all about applications. Applying what we’ve learnt so far. I just don’t give a fuck about technology, I don’t care what is being developed or how it’d ease out things for users, I just don’t care. So, after many years of studying I landed up being a bad engineer and about to work in the IT sector. For the records, I’m an electronics engineer, but whatever. Either ways, I’m clueless.

So back then, I didn’t know what an engineer was, I’m sure nobody did. I still highly doubt, I know it now, but let’s not go there. People had their own reasons, and they all were alien to me. In the past 3 years, kids and their parents ask me about the colleges and the ranks and the cut throat competition et al but nobody has ever asked me what is an engineer, why should they go for it? What are they looking for? Nobody. We live in a country where people believe that education is a formality, not a necessity. I teach/have taught kids as small as 8 years old and their parents just do not leave them alone. You do not study to get into a college, you study to become someone, to do what you love doing, to find what you’ll die for, to find your passion, you do not study to get a degree, you do not study to earn money, you study to find yourself, to do what’ll bring out the best in you, you do not study something because the society wants it, or the parents want it, it’s a path to finding yourself. In the growing years of a kid when parents should encourage the curiosity, encourage kids to question things, doubt the facts and learn things, when parents should help them find what they’re best at, they just suck the life out of the poor soul and cut-off any possibility of the kid’s desire to learn and make them escapists. If you’re clear why you want to study something, let nobody stop you but donot take up a course for wrong reasons. I know it’s a tough world out there and you need a fancy degree but folks, that does not guarantee a high paying job, and in all probabilities, not happiness. If you’re doing it and don’t love it, you are conforming yourself to torture. Let this be a free world, decide what you want to do, have faith in yourself, let people say whatever they want to. Let this be your life, stand by your choices and shut the people up by making it big. At the end of the day, it’s not about money, it’s about understanding your worth as an individual. You don’t want a life that progresses from ignorance to death, confined in a cocoon of myths and norms, break free!

Prisoner in a free world

I have never known what freedom is, I have tasted sour grapes, love, betrayals, wounds, tears, hatred, passion, lust, abuse, trauma, anguish. I have known it all, except freedom. I’ve grown up studying about India’s struggle for freedom, which sometimes got me in tears, of pride, of patriotism, of selflessness and sometimes, it just didn’t make any sense at all. I’ve never known what freedom is, probably because I’ve taken birth in a free nation. As I grew up, I realised, you can be a free man in a prison or a prisoner in a free world. It is a matter of perception. I have grown up with bitter memories of the past that are etched to my mind, body and soul. I have had people all these years telling me the obvious, to move on, I have. It does not bother me anymore, I do not cry about it anymore, but it’s there, embedded. I cannot free myself from the shadows of the past, I cannot free my soul. Freedom is about letting go, of futile feelings, of unwanted relationships, of wasted emotions, of people who do not deserve to be around you. Freedom is about realising self-worth even in the most difficult circumstances, it is about gathering yourself bit by bit to fight the odds, of whatever magnitude. It is about belief, about hope. Freedom is all that and more. It is about gathering the courage to break the norms and do what the heart says without fearing the consequences, about taking risks and knowing it was all worth it, it is about gathering strength to go upstream, to go against the winds and finding your true self in the journey. I’m caged by the society but I cannot blame anybody because I have to open the doors, to fly in the blue skies and see the world that I’ve always dreamt of. I’m bottled up in so much anger for a reason I fail to comprehend.Growing up in a society that is as hypocritical as ours, has taken a toll on me. I do not want anybody to tell me what to do because the norms suggest that. Our morality rests on the fear of god, on religion. We help people, expecting a reward from the god for good karma and don’t hurt others because of the fear of punishment. The norms, the definitions, customs, traditions, tolerance, intolerance, ego, do not make sense to me. Suffocates me, so much so that I’m on the verge of dismissing the world and it’s ways. I want to unchain myself, to penetrate deeper and cleanse my soul. I want to untangle myself from these invisible demons that suck the life out of me. I am at a point where I do not care what people have to say and do not give a fuck about being judged. My words, more often than not, are misinterpreted, I never clarify, I don’t care to, I have invested so much time and energy into futile arguments and discussions about things I couldn’t care less about, that I’ve quit explaining things, I never will, even if that gives me a label of a disrespectful daughter, of a sister who is setting a bad example for a younger sibling, of a rebel, of an iconoclast. I have wasted two decades of my life understanding the ways of the world, thinking I’m an obtuse learner, only to realise these ways are stupid and irrational. I’m on my journey to attain freedom and release the caged bird. Conforming to the norms is conforming myself to torture, but no more. I’ve set forth on the path to find myself, and thereafter discover my dreams and chase them. You cannot find yourself unless you detach yourself with these emotions within and free yourself by opening the doors, no one else will release you. And yes, as Red says in Shawshank Redemption, freedom is like crawling through shit and coming out clean on the other side.

..and you are a sucker

Dear Nirmal Baba,

Waddup? Saw Sherlyn Chopra’s pictures yet? C’mon stop blushing, you jerk. With all due respect, I am your fan and you, a sucker. I can stop here, but I wont.

I know how gratifying the business of fooling people, can be. Trust me, when I say that. It’s like a power bestowed upon you by the morons, showering you with loads of money and allowing you to fuck with them. Can life be any better? You have failed all the comic videos, movies, sitcoms that I’ve ever come across in my life. You sir, are a joke personified. Very early in my life, I’d realised, if you can’t fix them, fool them. This is a right thing to do with a society where people kill living beings in the name of a stone, that they call god, where people fuck their present in an attempt to make their future, which may not come, where every Tom, Dick and Harry has an opinion about their neighbour’s daughter, where kids are judged on the basis of their marks and adults, their salary, a society, that prays the goddess in the temple and fucks a woman on the streets, where people do not eat flesh on Tuesdays and reason it on flimsy grounds, where people watch movies like Rab ne bana di Jodi and call it amazing, where, people work their asses off to buy something that they don’t need. They’re already screwed, screw them more. I love the depth in your blank look, sire. I mean, your straight face comedy and resisting the haha-you-sucker-now-payme-and-get-the-fuck-outta-here, cannot be stated in words. You’re a marvel. Please ask your next victim bhakt, to wear hot pink and dance on the streets, it’d be legendary. I wish I could borrow just one drop of awesomeness from you and take the torch of fooling the humanity for generations to come, ahead. Look at you, you can make people buy things like, Eat pasta because your house is made up of bricks or drink jaljeera because unicorns can fly. I mean, beat that shit!  You bring humour to my mundane life so much so that thank you, sounds and means so small. I hope I grow up to become like you. Give me strength to be a bad example for all the generations to come and fuck the already fucked masses. I hope I never let you down in this noble cause and no soul remains untouched by irrationality, stupidity, ignorance and disgust. Amen!

And bro, you’re such a jerk.

Sincerely,

Baba_bakwaas

Where am I safe?

I am a woman who has lived in Delhi for over two decades now. The lessons that my folks taught me as a kid and during all those growing years are a result of the fact that I’ve grown up in a city where over a dozen women get raped and molested every single day. Eve-teasing, verbal molestation and getting stared at, at every nook and corner of the city is a daily affair. I don’t know, when I step out, whether I would come back home, safe. I have grown up living in a fear, that one day, half a dozen men will pull me into their Omni, rape me and render me worthless to my family and to my country. We live in a country where a woman getting raped means, she loses her purity and chastity and that her body is a temple and all that crap. These pseudo ethics were imbibed in me too, by our very own bollywood, news channels and every other media that influences a kid’s mind. I’ve grown up only to realise, this is all bullshit. But I’m still not safe here and I don’t know who, should I write this to. I walk on the road and if a car inches towards me, I change my path. I do not help random men on the road. If I’m alone in an elevator and a man comes in, I walk out. I avoid wearing skirts and shorts in public to avoid getting stared at. And no, I’m not paranoid. Ask a girl and she’ll know what I’m talking about. I am not at peace in my own homeland, my own country. Where should I go? I have been taught to ignore the jerks and their cheesy comments on the roads because apparently if I dare to fight back, I might ‘hurt’ the fucker’s ego and end up getting raped. To say the least, I don’t know what we are growing into. The country’s future is in the bars, drinking their lives away, surrounded by the smoke of the fancy hookas and a girl wrapped around their arms who, more often than not, gets pregnant at the age of 14. Everybody else is too busy blaming everything that’s wrong about their lives on everybody else. You tell women to leave their offices early so that they don’t get victimised? You tell them what to wear and what not so that they don’t ‘tempt’ the men to rape them.  Do you listen to yourself? Is that how you deal with a problem? I don’t trust, any of you to run my country. The windows of our future shut upon our lives like catacombs. I don’t trust the pseudo wisdom of the society that outrages about every superficial hoopla and the weeds that are corroding our roots and eating away our country are effortlessly ignored. I recall, some years back, while crossing a road, a Delhi Police van, full of police officers, passed by and I very clearly remember, one of them passed an obscene comment with a vicious smile, while the other whistled at me. Those were the men who maintain the law and order in the city. That day is imprinted in my memory, for I was left flabbergasted. Not because yet another man misbehaved with me on the road, that’s a routine affair. Because ,the policemen did it. A little something in me, died that day for nothing hurts more than losing hope and trust. Who would I go to, when something bad happens to me? Who should I trust? From bad mouthed auto drivers to horny fuckers in the metro dying to rape your personal space in a disgusting attempt to inappropriately touch you, to attain what? Nirvana? And beat the fuck out of the woman’s life. I’m no where safe. Not in the school, college, home, office, metro, road, bus, you name it. I will continue to express my dissent to the laws that objectify me and tell me what to wear and when to move out. I live here with a disgust and a fear that one fine day my story will feature in the daily newspaper and yet again, the page will be flipped and yet again, dismissed.

Pyaare Deshwasiyon,

Pyaare Deshwasiyon,

What are you all wasting your time on, today?  Are you still talking about Satyamev Jayate and pretending to care or have you switched to your regular stock of porn, lately? Your maid showed up today? No? Sad. Did you update your facebook status today and counted the number of ‘likes’? Did you like your own status and commented, ‘thanks for the ‘like’, Sakshi’ .I’m sure you have.  How did you come across as cool, among your peers?  Dinner pictures at Maurya? Very cool. Did you tune in to Nirmal baba’s samagams? No? Your life’s a waste. We live in a country where Karishma Kapoor goes on national television and claims that the only way pregnancy changed her life is, skin pigmentation and dullness. Now I totally understand the teenagers who are so fucked in head that they download an episode of Splitsvilla if they happen to miss it. If you ask me, there should be a qualifying test for parenting, if you pass that, you’re allowed to have kids. There’s no other event as life changing as delivering a baby, you get to nurture the goddamn kid, build his character, teach him right and wrong, make him aware of good and evil. Tell him to shut the fuck up and study to serve his country. But, no, the only way your life changes, reflects in your stretch marks, fucking pigmentation and change in your already fucked statistics. Either you are mentally dead or blind or both. I mean, look at us. We are so screwed. We take such things for granted and take shit like Facebook seriously. When will we grow up and atleast accept our flaws? How will we ever evolve as a society, nature too, it seems, has given up on us. Anyway , moving on.  The more critical issue that needs immediate attention is, I cannot decide what is more pathetic, Bol Bacchan’s trailors or Priyanka Chopra’s Garnier commercial.  Also, I have realised and accepted the fact that it is easier to fool people than to put some sense into them. And the only way to make it big in this country is getting into a business of fooling people. Nirmal baba. Ramdev. Asharam Bapu. And likes.  I may also, predict the end of the universe in some random year, say, 17 Oct 4009 and scare the shit outta people living in that era. Just like the Mayans did. It’d be so cool. Anyway, don’t forget to tell your neighbour’s daughter that she shouldn’t wear those shorts. Afterall, you were born to interfere in others’ businesses. Just like goddess Parvati, she was born to marry Lord Shiv. I mean, beat that shit. She was just born to marry. These stories mock themselves. But who cares? Let’s go back and login to our virtual alternative and let others know what we had for breakfast. Cool?

Yours,

You-know-who

Everything I learnt during engineering

I know this sounds stupid, I could very well, write a single word to explain it all, ‘nothing’. But then, my four years at college, helped me figure out things about life and people. And yes, I’m still, technically challenged. (A note to relatives and neighbours: I don’t know shit about fixing televisions. Thank you)

• It’s Vast-You can’t know everything, stop trying. The curriculum makes you more stupid, mechanical and cynical.  You can’t do justice to a summarised course structure taught (did I say taught? My bad) in mere 6 months and master it. Stop whining about it, it’s time.
• Aukaat- So let’s face it, we’re not really engineers. What we were taught (I’m sorry, again) or expected to study was infinity compressed in four years.  You’ll always get, what you deserve. (Aukaat se zyada kabhi kisiko kuch mila hai? ) So next time when you cry about not getting a job in a core company, step back and try pursuing a masters’ degree.
• Bakwaas- So engineering makes you ramble technical shit. Remember the vivas? All you’ve gotto do is, make a grammatically incorrect sentence, and start throwing random technical words at the examiner at the rate of  25 words/minute. That, my friends, will take you far.
• Avoid Manipulation- Yes, you read it right. It’s time we stand by our own decisions, good or bad. Our faults. Our weaknesses. Life’s short, keep it simple. Respect your decisions and learn to face the consequences. Even if that screws you up today, five years down the line, you’d be proud of yourself. Honesty makes your life simpler. Trust me.
• Stop pleasing people-As a rule, people are idiots. No, not you. People. At the end of the day, even if you’re sugar coated, someone will hate you. Like I do. So why so much effort?  Accept the fact, that you can’t be liked by everyone. Stop caring. Do what you love. Forget what the people want or think or are talking about. You like dancing in the rain? Do that. You like those pink shoes, get them. People have an opinion about anything and everything under the sun, stop bothering yourself listening to them.
• Stop Ranting- Even if 100 things are wrong with the system, I bet atleast 50 are wrong at your end. For instance, I wrote a thousand satirical letters to my teachers indicating how they were ruining our lives and how they sucked at teaching etc but I never went back home to study/google things on my own. Did you?
• Acknowledge- So India is a country where getting human rights is a privilege , where 37% of the population lies below the poverty line and as per the international benchmarks, 40% Indians are extremely poor. We’ve been given, probably, the best education, food, healthcare facilities. We have a lot of opportunities, a lot to look forward to, on the other hand, thousands are still on the road sans any shelter, food or potable water. We’re blessed. Have we ever acknowledged that?  
• Respect- I know college is all about, how cool you come across among your peers, juniors, lecturers etcetera. But always remember to draw the line. Always follow the mutual respect concept. Give and take. No, insulting your teacher isn’t cool. Also, respect yourself. If you don’t, nobody will.
• Appreciate the diversity- So, there’s a variety of people in this world. And trust me, you don’t have a clue about what they think, what they do, how they perceive things, how logically/illogically sound they are. You don’t know a shit about them. You can’t. All you can do is, control your actions and stop wasting your time figuring out what others’ are upto. Life’s too short to fix someone else’s shit. Don’t clutter you mind with unnecessary shit. Again, keep it simple.  
• Extract Happiness- Happiness isn’t conditional, you don’t need a reason to be happy. It’s a state of mind. Stop seeking reasons. Always, extract positivity from people and move on to the next. Learn from people. Everybody has something to offer. Talk to them about it. Don’t talk to them about their troubles, ask them about their dreams and aspirations, ask them about their passions.  
• Stop writing/talking. Start doing- So, I’m a live example of writing things and doing nothing.  Like what I’m doing right now. But, the good thing is I’ve figured it out. Have you? And someone told me, life’s too short to be bored. Don’t you think so?

Yes that’s everything I learnt during these four years. I don’t remember anything I learnt as a part of our curriculum, though. All I remember, is a series of random technical words. For now, I think that should be enough.  Or maybe not. What did you learn?

I Love You

Dear you,

The day you left is imprinted in my memory like an old childhood nightmare. It’s been a very long time. I don’t remember you. Only when the breeze, kiss the fragrant flowers your scent comes to me. Only when I walk alone, my fingers miss yours. When a tear trickles down my cheek, I feel your touch. Only while sleeping, I dream of you. I wake up to void, my hands search for you on the bed everyday only to realise that you’re not there. My eyes reach the blue skies trying to remember your face, looking at the shapeless clouds. I cook your favourite pasta and serve you a plate every day, hoping its aroma will take you to me. But you never come. As you walked away from me that day, a little something in me died, forever. All that’s left to me, is a pain, a very persistent pain. The doctor said, he could not cure me. Nothing can, but you. Come and kiss my pains away. The woman in me is dying for the man she loves and only a dead cold human corpse is all that is left to me. When the sunshine kiss my lips, I miss yours. I yearn to be in your arms and spend my life with you at a place where the heart does not cry, where the smile isn’t fake, where you and I are together. I could not stop you that day, for you had promises to keep, you had wars to win, to had a nation to serve, you had a duty to fulfill. Our love, dear you, is beyond the material bounds, its beyond the boundaries and territories created by us. We are mere mortals, but our love will go on forever. As I stand here alone, my eyes still search for you on the path where no one treads. Love, is an understatement, what I have for you is much beyond that. My soul is incomplete without yours. I cannot remember you, only when breathing becomes an obligation, your memory falls as a tear.  I know you’ll be back someday because this can’t be the end. I hope this letter finds you in good health. I know, like all my letters, this too will remain unanswered. They say, you’re dead. I know you aren’t. You’re fighting like a lion for our nation and I know you’ll be back for us, for our love.  

Love,

Me

To Fourier, With Love

Multiplying both sides by , and then integrating from  to  yields:

Of late there’s a lot of turbulence in and around me, yet another time they’re mocking us for being bad engineers and taking yet another round of tests and exams and vivas and likes to tell us what we already know. Nonetheless there’s one thing that I’ve always wanted to say, and as I type this, ‘always’ sounds so small. I’ve wanted to say this ever since we came into existence, and by we, I mean our race. So now without much ado I’d say it. Loud and fucking clear.

Dear Jean Baptiste Joseph Fourier,

Sir,

People spend their lives looking for an inspiration that’ll change their lives forever. What, sire, inspired you to fuck so many generations to come? Or if I may, the mankind. I’ve spent more than four years of my lifetime dreading your name, your equations are my nightmares, your discoveries, my miseries. Is that what you aimed for? Happy now? With all due respect, why? Do you realise you make me an engineer as Chunky Pandey is to acting? No? For the record, I happen to be a technology graduate and I know you’ve spread your poison everywhere, and the world can no more live without your stupid alien-like maddening equations, theorems and series and whatever. That was the plan, right? Well, well played sir. You so knew that we’ll live in an era where people like Ekta Kapoor will rule the world and Pratibha Devi Singh Patil will get to preside over a totally messed up nation, you knew we’ll break all the records of stupidity and strive hard to attain new levels every day, you so knew we’ll do anything to post our images pictures on the facebook only to like it ourselves and become a certified loser. You knew a time would come when people will approach Nirmal Baba for career advice and be fooled by faith. Didn’t you ? I’ve heard French women are hot, did you try your luck? Atleast she’d have ruined your focus, concentration, peace of mind and all that shit that you need for a breakthrough. Sigh. All these four years, I’ve cursed myself for becoming a bad engineer, wasting our nation’s resources and consequently, failing to contribute in any field, whatsoever. Thanks to you. Even after 182 years of your death you’ve managed to screw our vivas, labs, tests, exams, assignments, lectures in so many institutes across so many countries, it feels awesome. Right? I wish I were you. Anyway, I’d never turn back to those pages, to those grim details which makes one question their identity. I love you not, sire. Not that you care.

Sincerely,

A no-one

P.S. Those who have no clue, who he was, this dude, discovered the green-house effect and not that you care but his name is one of the 72 names inscribed on the Eiffel Tower. 

An open letter to Lord Rama

Dear Lord Rama,

SadarCharan Sparsh. I don’t know, where, at this instant in space and time, you are and in what avatar, as they say. Honestly, I care about the pink unicorn that some random girl in some random part of Japan is thinking about right now, more. But, what the hell. I write to you expecting, you’d resolve my doubts because you’re the god. Yes, it’s about the ‘Ramayana’. So the entire drama started when a random innocuous woman called Surpanakha who happened to be Sir Ravana’s beloved sister, apparently fell in love with you and was harmlessly flirting with you, how do you explain slaying her nose off, isn’t that, dear god, a misuse of powers ? Because as far as I know, gods are ideal. So Anyway, as an unfortunate consequence, this dude called Ravana abducted your wife to take revenge. C’mon you cannot deny it, Surpanakha was a harmless nymph, isn’t what you did to her was an over-reaction? Unfair, is the word. Anyway, I have this huge respect for Sir Ravana for he took great care of your wife and respected her. And after all this drama, when she’s finally released, you make her go through the freaking ‘Agnipariksha’ ? Seriously? What got into you? Weren’t you supposed to be a god? Is this a god-like deed? No. That is not even human, sir. I’ve never seen such a blatant display of hypocrisy wrapped in delusion and irrationality. Your deed, dear god, was lowly and disgusts the hell out of me. You disrespected a woman, objectified her and reasoned it on flimsy grounds. Ask a 5-year old and he’ll tell you how immoral you were. Or as @thesomisetty says here maybe you were meant to be a villain and we’ve been mis-interpreting the entire plot altogether for centuries now. In the end, Ravana emerges as a true hero but sadly, dies a cruel death. You know what bothers me? That although you are a character of figment , you are defined as a god. Everything you do, is by definition, correct. Your heinous act of discrimination, sexism and upright disrespect for Sita, is considered right, in the eyes of your believers. And let’s face it, both of us know, how these believers ape things and never feel the need of questioning things. I now know why we live in a society where women, still have to fight for their rights and fall prey to shit-heads to no justice and respect, even after thousands of years of civilisation we haven’t grown any bit. You’ve set a bad example for the society and honestly, you’re not even remotely, god-like. I respect Rakhi Sawant, more. Also,no offense.

Sincerely,

An Atheist/Agnostic

Dear Readers, you may begin to shower me with hate mails for my blasphemy. But remember, it is a victimless crime.

P.S. It is an epic and nothing till date is written as brilliantly as The Ramayana and the Mahabharat. I’m a huge fan of Valmiki.

P.P.S It, obviously is a fiction but people think otherwise thus, the Kolaveri Di :P
P.P.P.S If you're wondering, No, Rama didn't slay Surpanakha's nose.Lakshman did. Rama didn't oppose. Lakshman wasn't punished for his act either. 

An Acknowledgement Letter

I write this acknowledgement letter to all those humble and very concerned souls who’ve invested their lives to point out to me that I’m lean which, I wouldn’t have noticed otherwise. Also, to those who without fail, without asking for it, keep suggesting, advising, or randomly keep blabbering about something that is very personal to my life. Here’s an acknowledgment letter to you all,

Dear the-above-mentioned-category,

How do I thank you for what you’ve done for me for all these immensely critical and important years of my life. Who else would have pointed out at every social gathering, at every minute, every second of my life, that I weigh lesser than an ant. If not you, I would’ve died without even noticing it. No words can express my gratitude towards you, noble souls. But there’s one thing, that has always made me curious, why don’t you mind your own fucking business? Have you ever thought about that? No? Then, kindly do. That’ll be a whole lot of unexplored horizon for you. I can no more smile into nothingness and live that awkward three minute phase, I can’t stop myself from telling you to stfu, anymore. Invest your time, losing that unwanted ugly unhealthy fat from your body. Have you ever seen yourself in the mirror? Please do. Your unintelligible attempts at hiding that flab with your supposedly strategic orange piece of shimmery draping is not even funny anymore. I had to stoop down to your level to shut you up. Also, one more time you ask me, ‘kuch khati nahi kya?’ I’ll make you watch Star Parivaar Awards in a loop, but considering your IQ, that’s a good deal for you. Well, how about this, you lesser mind, I’ll make you watch The Big Bang Theory for 48 hours straight without even telling you what Ohm’s law is. Also, do not ever grab my wrist to measure how thin I am, I’m sure your eyes are well equipped to comprehend three dimensional objects, you needn’t touch to prove your multi-dimensional stupidity. When you mock me for not being able to apply the eye liner, or a nail paint, whose existence is of no importance to this universe or to any parallel universe whatsoever, you look like the drunk director of Malamaal Weekly, who decided to make a sequel of the movie, unaware of the logistics and insulting the Indian masses by questioning their sense of humor, under-estimating their ability to comprehend things and taking undue advantage of the amount of shit, that us Indians can take. O well, pardon me, for I got swayed. Do you not understand the do-your-job-and-get-the-hell-out-of-there funda? Why do you have to embarrass yourself everytime we meet? I can’t even pretend that I care anymore. I understand, it’s difficult to get a life. I know your love life sucks and last time you dated a man/woman was 1000 years back, I also know that your spouse is mentally paralysed to take any shit from you and respond accordingly and that, your kids are too busy flaunting the pink iphone, planning the date, choosing the skirt and are on their peak of  I-know-it-all-kindly-stay-away phase. I know it’s difficult for you to shut up, try meditating. No? Please spare me for I may not be able to follow the social protocol anymore. Stop telling me what to do and what not, I am no Sonam A Kapoor, I don’t take bad decisions on a daily basis with that kind of confidence over-confidence.Thank you for everything. Kindly concentrate on your lives, your partners, sisters, mothers, daughters, need attention. You’re welcome.

Thanking You,

X

55 Word Story

The Cafe

She still visited his favourite coffee shop, praying the lord that this time, he’s late. But unlike those times, he wouldn’t. She waited there for hours, for the miracle to happen, but like always, it didn’t. She left with a pain in her heart and tear in her eye as the attendants bid her goodbye.

Water

They were stuck in the infinities of water, rushing waves, mountains of molecules with tremendous energy ready to consume them. Tortured by energy, they felt very small. They could feel the turbulence in their hearts. They kissed each other, as if to bid goodbyes, closed their eyes, as the sea roared and ate them both.

Gods and Demons

He was a demon who resided in her as her god. He killed her from within and yet for her, their love was chaste. He sucked every tinch of life out of her and yet she refused to acknowledge life sans him. As she sang her soul to sleep, the demon consumed her physical self.

Bed

Their love knew no bounds, they’d always be together melting in each others’ arms on that little bed that witnessed their love from the depth of the seas to the zenith’s height, it also witnessed their separation, saw her die within, saw her bleed. She died in its lap and soon it became her sarcophagus.

Dear You,

Dear You,

Where in the folds of life did I lose you? I still carry, somewhere in the depths of my soul, the shattered pieces of my heart that still hurt and keep our love alive and eternal. Life is no longer mine, since I’ve lost you. Remember those phone calls, those texts at each hour, thinking about each other every minute, every second of our lives? Remember those long walks to nowhere holding each others’ hands to walk together forever? I miss that warmth, I miss that walk, I miss talking to you, I miss looking into your eyes and forgetting the world, I miss you. I miss my life. Ever since you’ve gone, there’s a stagnance, Life has come to a still, where no road takes to you, where no face resemble yours, where the red flowers in the bouquet aren’t for me, where there are no surprises awaiting, where the day ends as it began. My life is an obligation, I live for  compulsion. You remember how we promised each other to live together forever and dreaded the idea that eventually the inevitable death would part us? Life has separated us now and I still fail to figure out, how on this earth, with this life, sans you, would I survive. Our worst nightmare has come true, with a difference that like always, you’re not there to comfort me and tell me that we’ll go on forever and that, even the death won’t part us. I still visit your favourite coffee shop and sit on your favourite chair praying to the lord that this time, you’re late. But unlike those times, you aren’t. I wait there for hours, waiting for the miracle to happen, but like always, it doesn’t. I leave with a pain in my heart and tear in my eye as the attendants bid me goodbye. I see the frosted flowers in my notebook that you once presented me and some part of me dies within.  I miss your fragrance, your touch on my cheek, I miss thinking of new and romantic ways of expressing my love for you every day and still even the stupidest of them made you smile. I miss that tear of joy when we looked at each other and said nothing at all. That moment was divine, it defined the chastity of our eternal love. In that moment I lived a thousand lives and more. I love you from the depths of my heart to the zenith’s height and more for if I state it in words, I’d be unjust. I search for you in the crowd of million and still come out to be the lonliest girl in the masses. I still watch any random movie in a theatre only to find the seat next to me, vacant and walk off with that emptiness. That void will stay with me till my sarcophagus for no one else can touch my soul like you did. I will carry our memories of the sacred moments that we spent together and cherish them for my lifetime. Those moments of our togetherness transcends space and time and shall be cherished for many lives to come. I will love you more each passing day, for that’s the only thing I put my heart and soul into. I ask for no more and no less. If not us, our love will go on forever.

Love,

Me

P.S. A Fictitious Love Letter

An open letter to Behenji

Behen Mayawatiji,

To say the least, I’m a huge fan of yours. The way you carry your classy ensemble is beyond any words and your chic haircut just adds cherry on the cake. How do you manage all this amidst all the Ambedkar park tamasha ? I’m sure it takes hours for you to choose a completely ill-fitted, bad-coloured salwaar-kameez , because, well, it’s rare. No one sells something that bad. Oh wait, Delhi does. But well, that’s your personal choice. You stand by it without fail, I respect you for that. But guess what else is personal ? Your Rs. 685 crores expensive personal dream in a country where 30% of the population lie below the poverty line. You know what else is personal ? The park’s dozen statues, which include yours and your parents’.I mean, hello? What were you thinking? You are the fucking chief minister of a totally screwed up state, you chose to be the leader? Be the leader. Are you not tired of your irrationalities already? I mean, c’mon. I say this as a fellow citizen who does not want to hate you but do I have an option? If at all you have any clue, what I am talking about. First thing tomorrow, go and put some sense into those men who are no less than hooligans on the road and call themselves, the policemen. I refuse to accept their behaviour.  Teach them some manners? No ? Teach them the concept of mutual respect. No, they didn’t catch me for pda in the Ambedkar park. Seriously K  Ambedkar park man, you ordered to cut down 6000 trees to build this park? Even Poonam Pandey becoming a nun, wouldn’t be *that* ironical. You know her? Wonder woman, she is. Anyway, since I’m just a huge fan of yours, I dropped in to tell you about the traffic fuck ups in Noida. Since, you don’t bother taking the road way and land on a especially made helipad in some random school in Noida, you obviously wouldn’t know. So the other day, when, you happened to inaugurate your dream project, per say, hours before your celeb-like-arrival, your corrupt officers were trying to cover their screw ups on the last minute by blocking the roads and disrupting the traffic for hours. How do you explain that?  Who are we ? And what’s up with the Helicopter? Who are you ? Have you ever ever travelled on the Noida roads? Or are you always too busy with the embellishments? I don’t get it. You sanctioned  a sum of Rs. 18 crores to combat encephalitis, after more than 400 children died in eastern UP and bloody 685 crores for that shit? Are you insanely out of your wits? I don’t think so. You obviously are an awesome woman, you know. An inspiration for many well.. whatever  so, I’d want to enlighten you, since you are ‘The Mayawati’. I don’t do it for others .Here are the tips,

·         Don’t let people call you, ‘Behen(ji)’ It closes a whole new horizon of dating men and stuff, you know?

·         Next time you go shopping, take me along?  Deal?

·         It’s freaking 50 deg outside .Get off those full sleeves :o You want sensors?

·         When you have no clue, where to spend all that extra black money, or the hard earned money by the taxpayers, again, contact me. I wanted a Lee shirt K

·         Before dreaming something big like the disaster you just made, consult a psychiatrist. I ain’t kidding.

·         Fire all your policemen. Or I’ll kill them on the road.

·         Do something about the jams, roads, rules, heard these words? No? I don’t blame you. Schools in Uttar Pradesh K

·         Have you ever travelled to Aligarh, benaras, Allahabad.. etcetera? You probably haven’t, these places have no free space for a helipad .Sad. Men there, need some psychiatric attention. Or just more copies of Playboy. Whatever. Next time, a shit happens to me, I turn into Damini of the movie, Damini. Makes sense? Good.

·         Have you ever thought about developing the rest of Uttar Pradesh ? Or are you too busy presenting the winning trophy to Vettel ?  Isn’t he hot ? I know.

·         And well. C’mon marry now. J

Yours Loving,

A common man(woman) whatever