What a fighter she was!

“You look so pretty after marriage!”, she said holding my hand with a gleam in her eyes. I managed a smile, fighting myself to hold back the tears. “How are you badimummy?” I asked, I knew how she was. Fighting to live everyday, with the strength I’ve only read in legends. What else heroes are made of? And here I was feeling so weak and vulnerable, I wanted to cry my heart out, only I couldn’t. I’ve never felt so naked about my emotions ever.  There were so many thoughts slapping my head that I was almost going insane. How could life be so unfair? How can she smile with so much pain? How.Why. Of course, there are and will be no answers to such questions. She was still holding my hand, moaning with incredible pain, that one can only imagine. “How is S? He’s a really nice guy”, she smiled, I couldn’t hold a conversation and hated myself for acting so childish. Act Normal, Nikita. Hold back the tears, she doesn’t wanna see them! I would remind myself, frustrated. Often, I’d excuse myself with a fake phone call. It was so much harder than I thought, that maddening thick silence engulfing us all. Outside in the waiting room, I wept profusely, people saw, they turned back and saw but I couldn’t stop, I couldn’t care. I couldn’t masquerade strength, I could see myself all over the place, crying like a baby, even in front of my lil sister when I should’ve been there for her. I couldn’t, I was breaking in the most ugly way one can imagine. Some patients were in the corridors, walking, some were in the well lit waiting room and seeing somebody weep like that was probably the last thing a cancer patient wants to see, I failed.Miserably. I went back to her room, we were all trying desperately to strike a normal conversation, cracking silly jokes, pretending to laugh, “Shivi you remember that hindi language essay that you wrote in class 2?”, bhaiya asked Shivi. “It was genius”. She smiled and in a fit uttered, “bhaiya stop it, it wasn’t that bad”. Everybody laughed. Badimummy laughed too, it was a pretty sight. “You guys must be hungry, order food, P”, she asked her son and soon the rice and the noodles arrived. We couldn’t eat, how could we? She hadn’t eaten in 30 days. “You’re not eating, please take some more” she told mom. Amidst so much pain, she could think about all this, I could not believe. How can someone be like that? I was unlearning everything I’ve known about life in these 25 years. You need to shred every strand of your existence to understand death and how much nothing else matters. How everything falls flat in the face of death. I hadn’t seen death from so close and she was living it with so much positivity and courage. We all know death is an inevitable end, but I wasn’t prepared for it. Who is? That day I learnt how much it means to give and to smile and what strength does for us.  When we were leaving, she said, “I’ll soon come to Delhi” but sadly, she never will.  We lost her a week after I relocated to Orissa. I couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep for days thinking I hate this place  and this is what quitting job is doing to me. I couldn’t write. Until today when I wrote this. I’ll never forget what she taught me in her silence. May her soul rest in peace and inspire us all till the end of our days. 

Hitched!

Ssup Ladies and Gentlemen,

If by any chance, you've missed my embarrassing wedding photos on our very own facebook, chances of which happening is lesser than finding life on Pluto (Side Note: Please go and like them, this is JUST the reason I got married for) and if you've recently spotted a girl woman wearing the shinniest pair of red bangles with shirts and trousers. Yes, that's probably me. People say, women get hotter after marriage, I don't know what I did wrong. And for those who've been asking, one month into the marriage, life hasn't changed much, except people have started calling me aunty, I care about padosi ke bete ke bowels movements more, by the way and oh, yes! I've got a husband too.So, yes new set of people, new set of questions, good news kab hai? Don't even try asking me that, it is not funny. I'd poke a needle in your eye, worse I'd sit you down to watch Amrita Rao's dialogues in slow motion in your favorite, Vivah, the movie. So yes, social acceptance and all that jazz. Again, I care about Chintu's bowel movements, more. Fun fact though, there are still parts of our nation, where kids in school are prohibited to talk to a child of opposite gender and when they are to marry, they're sent off to a mysterious dark tunnel just because the gates look shiny. No, I'm not saying anything.Anyway, this post isn't about my life or yours, it's a work of philanthropy, my bit towards humanity. How those 3 days were the longest 100 years of my life, why you must choose for a court marriage instead, I tried though, good luck!

• Rituals: If you're born in a hindu household and marrying the traditional way (I'd not take the liberty to talk about other religions) sire, you'd be royally fucked.The unflagging pursuit of conducting rituals that are a pain in the ass for everybody. There'll be 10,000 rituals that'll add no value to your life, or your marriage, that's no fun, not for you, not for your family, not for the priest! And makes no sense whatsoever, Honey Singh's songs make more sense, but but but, you have to do it! Why? Because that's how its done, everybody does it! Why? Because god. I rest my case. Fun Fact: I heard mantra and shlokas in my sleep for good 5 days after the wedding, I would wake up sweating, would anxiously look around for the brown shit powder that we inflict upon the havan-kund, that's when he'd break my trance and say, it's over, with a dramatic pause. The saddest part? I'm not even kidding. I wish I was.

• Haldi Ceremony: Yes, the one you've watched in the movies. Deepika Padukone in yellow, designer lehenga, pink, can I call it choli?  But, stop flattering yourself. You are not Padukone, the bride is oiled and greased (and made to feel ugly on her wedding day) and made to  sit through pointless sessions of pooja which finishes just a second before her physical and emotional break-down. What timing! But I'm not cribbing, so much fun! You can't wait to get married, right? :)

• Photographer: This guy, manages to single-handedly suck whatever life is left in you. He'll ask you to semi make out with your guy in front of 300 guests and be okay with it. Are you okay with it? I was fucking not. And if you happen to be the bride, god save you. You'd be asked to hold a bouquet of flowers, hold it with both your hands and place them near your cheek and bend your head towards it, uh-no, not just any angle! The perfect angle that he prescribes, and all this to make a complete fucking fool of yourself. I can't think of anything else under the sun that's more lame. Can you?

• So-Much-Attention: I'm sure if I'd have won the Nobel prize for inventing flying cars, nobody would've given so much fuck. But no, marriage is larger than life! It was embarrassing to get so much attention for just a wedding, I mean, have I written a book? Won a prize? achieved anything? No.  I'm just spending my parents' hard-earned money, in one single night. Was I proud of it? NO. I felt like a mini Shah Rukh Khan.Well, but the ways of the world. 

• Kuch toh log kahenge: Now that we were getting married, every Ram, Shyam, Ghanshyam, paanwaala, chaiwaala assumed its their birth right to talk about our relationship. Everybody around, either had an advice or an opinion. I know life will change in multiple ways, a new set of people would be introduced, our equation would change, our fates would be intertwined and the decisions, good, bad, ugly, would affect both of us. Shit will change. But does that mean you get the right to talk about it? No. Kindly shove your valuable words of wisdom in your asses. Thank you.

P.S. Jokes apart thanks for coming to the wedding with last year's diwali's left over casserole sets wrapped primly with the shiniest piece of wrapping paper, they've truly touched our hearts and changed our lives :)

Friends with benefits

"I love you too." he said looking like a wall, straight, emotionless. He said it like it was a daily chore that he had to get over with. She immersed deeper in his arms. "Can you please stay tonight?" She pleaded. She hated to sound that way, desperate, weak, needy but there was little that she could help. She was impulsive, she was always ready to be burnt, ready to say the dangerous things, out loud, without a thought or the fear of being judged. She'd easily give in to the moment. "No. Please don't expect anything from me. You don't get it, do you?"  "I'm Sorry.", she said ashamed and embarrassed, cursing herself for having asked for something like that. "Whatever", he turned away from her. Being with him was an emotional roller coaster ride for her, like running madly in a tunnel reaching the darkest of corners and open spaces with lights, slapped between extremes, "Don't stay then, leave." she said trying to collect whatever was left of her self respect. "Come here baby, I snap easily. Sorry." he eased out and looked a little human than before, he embraced her in his arms and that one moment for her extended till eternity, unbroken. This was a pause that she never wanted to break. The way his fingers ran through her hair and his touch on her bare chest made her feel alive than anything else in the world did. She'd transcend space and time, when in his arms. Just then, in the mid of the night, his phone rang. He instantly rose and dressed himself. "No, please stay a little longer." again, she cursed herself for saying it out loud in open with such desperation. "I have to. My wife just delivered a baby.You can stay here tonight, I've made the payment." He left leaving five grands on the bed, closing the door behind him.

Periods.

Its that time of the month again. When I blossom like a flower and my femininity flows out of my body like a mad roaring river, I love it. Every bit. They ask us not to enter the temple, because it's a holy place, not to

enter the kitchen, not to worship because lets face it, GOD, the imaginary friend, the stone statue, the hit-me bear must be respected and I'm dirty. I'm so overwhelmed with humility and warmth, I feel so respected. I love

periods! Hey, did I forget to mention the cramps? Oh, they're are just.beautiful. Your body hurts everywhere, parts that you didn't even know existed! I feel so alive. The pain. Back, legs, abdomen, upper abdomen,

lower abdomen, chest, you name it! So why all this happens? Every month uterus assumes, I'd let a guy put it in and have his sperm fertilize with the egg and make babies! Wow! Every fucking month, did you hear me?  EVERY FUCKING MONTH! Who does that? At this rate even Gandhari wouldn't have produced  babies. Anyway, so anticipating an arrival of the jerk's sperm (Universal truth: All men are jerks. Out of context? Fuck off) it thickens the uterus wall to cushion the fertilization, but of course when it doesn't happen, it breaks the hell loose, sheds the fucking cushion and there it is! in front of your eyes, like a crime scene. Blood, everywhere.

EVERYWHERE. And the best part? Its coming out of you! gushing out at the rate of thousand litres per second. And it's so adorable.Its on the bed sheet, its on the skirt, on the pants, on the floor, its in the universe. It's like a cosmic joke on you. Yes, on you.  And you're supposed to act all normal about it. Like nothing happened, oh does it hurt? It's okay. Its normal.  It'll happen next month too, and the month after and the month after until one day when an accident happens and you forget to use the condom or the fucking pill or you're hit by lightening and decide on having a kid or that font size 5 disclaimer on the condom box decides to fuck your life, that day, THAT day, it stops and then begins a new episode in a woman's body. A tale of blood and gore. Don't even get me started. All this to give birth to a child. A kid! A kid who grows up to be an asshole and spends all this time trying to impress a dumber kid. And after years when the torture finally ends and you look at your kid and back to all the years of pain, every month, it'll be all lame. The freaking dots will not connect. Your life would stop making sense. Not that it ever did. That day, woman, buy a bat and pick up a random man from the street and beat the fuck out of him and don't ask why. Women are after all illogical, unreasonable, irrational, think about every man who ever said that to you and there it is! your happily ever after!

P.S. I'm not PMSing

We could use some life. No?

So, like most of of the minions, I have a job, I do stuff that I'm told to do that most often than not, makes no sense to me, adds no value to my existence, doesn't even justify anything, its probably discarded off at the end of the day, yet I do it, in return of money.No honor, no pride, ghanta skill, for money.Simple. The usual format everywhere, I reckon. I fail to understand though, how 7 billion people of the entire world, are completely okay with it. Do you not want to scream the life outta you? 10 hours a day in a cubicle. How is it okay with you? I bow to thee. Immense respect. I, however, cannot, just cannot sit in an office and be told to do something that I dont give a shit about. I'd rather watch Deepak Tijori's movies or talk about how my life changes at the prospect of having a north indian-south indian debate with you, or how much I care about what Arvind Kejriwal is up to or what an incredible asset Gandhi has been to India or Tusshar Kapoor's prolific acting in no movie at all. You get the point. Peanuts. I donno about you, but I get peanuts in return of selling my soul, squeezing the life out of me, and that is made to sound like a fair deal. Did you ever notice? I'm sure you'd have.  I graduated with a farce idea of independence, of freedom and here I am, fettered by money. I kill my soul to earn money, money to be happy. See the circular logic? I see it in my dreams. And whoever said, slavery is abolished must be really wasted. I slave my way into life every single god damned day. I could pull it off by being drunk all the time, but I'm getting old and I have a social responsibility of talking big and doing nothing and pal, that ain't happening being drunk. So next time, you get a life, even for like a millionth of a second, invite me. Please?

Dear Parents,

Have you ever given a thought, why a kid grows up to become a fucktard? Oh, I mean, yet another fucktard. No, right? Because you made him. Parenting in our country is like our National Hockey team. If you were wondering, yes Ignored. I’m a little more than two decades old and I’m taking the liberty to tell you how you ruin lives and eventually our country’s future. Ofcourse, those who’re already offended can stop reading and go back to whatever fuck they were doing. Sharmaji ka beta kya kar raha hai? So help me understand when you give birth to a life, do you have a plan in mind? or is it like watching Vivah the movie, where nobody knows what the fuck is hapening and the end result is really really fucked. I mean she asks jal piyenge? in 15 fucking minutes. Who talks like that? You can take 10 back to back history lessons and the movie still just wouldn't end. Get the point? Anyway, coming back, do you ever have a plan in place? or do you nurture kids like one of the contestants in Takeeshi's castle, stumbling, falling, having no idea whats going on and eventually giving up. Dear parents, if you want kids for coochi moochi, please buy a doll instead, because the damned thing will grow up, utilise depleting resources and will add to the ever growing population. It'll grow up to be thankless, stupid, pretentious, hypocrite, disrespectful, ungrateful and so on and so forth and one of them can meet me and I wont think twice to slap the fuck outta him. In case you still decide to give birth to a child, do you ever teach your kids how to question things rather than answering shit that they don’t understand? You’re kidding with a kid’s life and a country's future but ofcourse you are an aware citizen, you will outrage about everything and anything because that's what you're best at doing. You give them wrong lessons, flawed methods, unscrupulous ways to succeed and grow up to become a corporate slave. Have you ever taught him right? Have you ever asked him what he aches for, rather than asking what he wants to become when he grows up, all the fucking time. Do you ever tell your daughters that rapes and molestations are not their faults? You might've taught them their body is a temple instead, no? Do you ever slap any sense into their brains when they disrespect women? Do you make sure you respect women? Do you still suck the lives out of their souls when they score less? Are you still teaching a crocodile to climb a tree? Well, good luck with that. Have you ever appreciated them for their small acts, when they help elders? No? They'd stop it. You see what I'm saying? Rocket Science? Parenting is very very difficult, it shapes or breaks someone's future. It shapes characters, how they view this world, how they treat people, how they live their lives. Whether they grow up to become Tusshar Kapoor or Shah Rukh Khan. Bringing a life in this world, shouldn't be an experiment. Also, you deserve immense respect for the unconditional love for your child and for everything else you do for them without weighing and for tolerating their non-sense, it'll be an epic shame if they don't realise this, they'd never value anything else ever. Make them realise. If they still dont, throw them out. Please ask your boys not to rape and your girls, its not their fault. Do this and you'd bring a change in society, a change that'll matter. 

P.S. My parents are awesome. Despite my fuckeries, they still haven't thrown me out.

P.P.S Burn your kids' room if they listen to Yo Yo Honey Singh. No seriously.

Thanks.

An year older, any hour wiser?

So how old are you now? I just realised a while ago that you’ve freaking turned old! I write because there are things I always wanted to tell you. To begin with, welcome to the big, bad, tattered world. But do not waste your life crying about it, you must acknowledge the fact and embrace it. Don’t give a shit about pleasing people, they’ll hate you, try to pull you down anyway. Always remember, the day you start caring about what people think of you, you become people. Judge no one, its none of your business and never be affected by someone else’s judgement. Soon, nobody will be after your life to tell you to do this and do that and wake up at this time and don’t sleep at such an ungodly hour, nobody will tell you what to wear(well, they will) and how to talk and what to do with your life. That day, you’d have to choose the right from the wrong, the white from the black. You’d have to choose what you want to do with your life, you’d have to unlearn many things that were taught to you and redefine many many things. That kind of independence would be scary. You might as well have to leave the home behind, and you must know, when you leave even for the happiest place in the world, you’d leave a part of your soul behind. There are things which cannot be replaced. There are voids which cannot be filled. You’d always want to come back home. I wanted to tell you that there is a world beyond the cocoon you’re living in, you might as well do justice to your life and try and make it a better place to live in. Always be grateful for the kind of life you’re living, very few have had the privilege to get what you’ve got, and don’t fool yourself into believing that you deserved any of it. Be strong but don’t be too proud of it, you’ll be strong because you’d have no choice. The trifles you ignore today, would be worth a million a few years from now, you don’t want to regret. Do you? Don’t pay heed to pretence, false praises and honest promises. Don’t make space for negative people, or those who hurt you. Don’t be inveigled by flattery. I do not ask you to win a race, but at least finish somewhere, don’t keep the ends hanging in the mid of nowhere. Your life will oscillate in crests and troughs and you’d be thrown from one pillar of insanity to the other, please know that, it’s all natural and that’s how it’s all designed. And slap anybody who asks you to repair their TV sets after learning the fact that you’re an engineer! Respect people irrespective of their age and gender. I want to tell you that I’d be there to cushion your every fall only if you rise up every time, stronger. And remember wacky hairdo, funky accessories, mocking the different, twisting the tongue, talking in an unnatural accent, spelling words wrong, or riting lyk dis doesn’t make anybody cool. Today, you grow an year older, let your soul grow as well. I wrote to you to tell you that whenever you walk out of that home, tell the world that you were raised well. Make us all proud and don’t chase what shines the most.

A Very Happy Birthday.