Learn to clean up your mess

Note - My little cousin sister of three years recently learned to say sorry when she does something wrong. The next thing my masi (aunt) is teaching her is to clean up the mess she makes after playing with her toys. Okay, now, go ahead, read the post.

As a part of my journalism course, I've got a chance to visit Bhopal and see the place where the world's biggest ever industrial tragedy took place in 1982. Frankly speaking, it's a trip. And I would have preferred to visit some beach or go camping to hills as a part of my trip. But the discovery of some very disturbing facts made me convince that I should not miss the trip to this not-so-happening place. A lot has happened there which we need to be aware of.

For people who don't know, Union Carbide Factory, a franchise of a US company came to India with the intention of setting up a fertilizer factory in Bhopal.
The Indian government was happy. They were happy that foreign investment and revenue was coming in. They were happy that good quality fertilizers would be available to our farmers. What they did not expect to receive in the bargain was a seething loss of millions of lives.

Twenty-five years have passed since that night of terror and death in Bhopal, which saw a cloud of deadly gases explode out of a faulty tank in the pesticide factory and silently spread into the homes of sleeping people. It was a night which has never ended.

Interestingly, the tragedy occurred because of a very, very minor fault, i.e. of a gas leakage. The gas stored in the tank was supposed to be stored at a temp of minus five degrees or less, for which proper refrigeration was provided. Till one fine day, the then-CEO of company, Warren Andrews decided to turn off the refrigeration valve in June 1984 as the maintenance costs were crossing their budget.

Although several safety warnings were issued to the factory, no heed was paid to them. And then, on the night of December 3, 1984 when all the workers had returned to their homes, the gas valve started leaking around 12 am. At that point of time, it had 45,000 kg of poisonous gas which was unleashed on the sleeping city of Bhopal. The temperature in the valve had reached a good 45 degree celsius.

I do not need to get into all the details, as I believe that my informed readers do have an idea about this tragedy. It will be suffice to say that people were choked to death in their sleep, pregnant women suffered sudden miscarriages, lung cancer, burning sensation in eyes, breathlessness et al.
It was India's very own Hiroshima and Nagasaki. People born in that area of Bhopal still suffer from deadly breathing diseases, lung cancers and women still end up losing their child while it's still in their womb.

On that fateful night, the CEO was arrested, released on bail and flied to Delhi via a State-owned plane from where he was secretly departed to US, never to return again. The factory is today owned by Dow Jones, one of the biggest players in world economy. The current CEO still lives lavishly in sub urban New York and is indifferent to the tragedy.
The company was asked to pay damages to the victims. After 12 years of long legal battle, the company shelled out 12,000 to the kins of deceased. Rs 12,000 each, was the price paid for millions of innocent lives lost.

Interestingly, the govt today does not hesitate to announce compensation of Rs 1 lakh to Rs 5 lakh even in some minor rail accident. And the world's biggest industrial tragedy got weighed at 12,000 grands wonly.

I wonder if a similar incident would have taken place in US in some Indian owned company. Would it's Indian CEO be able to escape in the same manner? Bah, we all know the answer too well. Don't we?

Headlines like "Brown-skinned Indian held for murdering several first world citizens in their sleep" would probably do the rounds of USA Today and New York Times. (Man, i really need to stop imagining now).

My little sister knows how to clean up her mess, I wonder when will the CEO of the biggest company in the world will learn to do that!

Shave India

Disclosure: Since I've run out of all sensible things to write and I'm really not in the mood to comment on Obama's security breach or Real Estate in Dubai crumbling down, I'm writing about a really mindless topic right now. If you are annoyed after reading this post, please don't tell it to me coz I'll say, You were warned!

There are very few things which fascinate me as much as my cluttered desktop or my sister's overflowing cupboard (with most of what is my stuff in them). Men with beard are one of them. Think about it. Not so long ago, Ruk Ruk Khan and Tick Tick Motion with their chiseled bodies and chikna faces were all the rage among the girls and young aunties alike.

Then, came the likes of goonda-looking Abhishek Bachpan who boldly stated that keeping a stubble is "in". I'll simply say he is too lazy to shave his beard off. Others like, Neil Nitin Mukesh, Johnny Depp and Collin Farrell followed. They redefined cuteness, fusing it well with the hairs on their face.

Cut to the present, where all the boys around me seemed to have taken a pledge that they will let their neighborhood barbers die of hunger but will not go in for a trimming or much better, a shave. No, they will not let the poor barber earn a penny or few.

My younger brother has a beard thicker than amazon forest within two hours of getting shaved. And yes, all he has to do to irritate me is to stand near me and pretend to scratch his beard. Gross. GrOsS. GROSS.

S looks cuter than a koala bear whenever he shaves. The sad part is he makes it a point to meet me only when he is looking like a complete terrorist with his beard, moustache and all. The cherry on the cake is the recent survey I came across where Gillette is launching a movement called "Shave India".

I was casually surfing through channels when I came across this ad. At first, I thought, maybe it's some similar political campaign like "Lead India" or "India Shining". But two minutes into the ad and I came to knew that the ad was launched in response to a survey which revealed that 90% of the Indian women would like to kiss a guy who is well shaved.

My reaction was like "Hadh hai wella hone ki bhi. Kisi dhang ke topic pe hi survey kar lete. Common sense ke bhi survey hote hain kya?"

But the fact that I've dedicated an entire post to this bearded topic does prove that I did gave the issue an afterthought. Most of my male friends prefer to keep a stubble, a goatee, a barely -there mustache or the most common one - trimmed but not shaven look.

I'm yet to come across a guy who prefers to shave. Regularly. Now, come on, would you guys really like it if all the females stopped waxing? No, right? So, there!

Strange Stranger Meeting

For people who do not know already or have visited this page for the first time, let me tell you guys that I travel a lot, like four hours everyday within the city.

Considering I'm always using the public transport, I happen to meet a lot of people. Keep bumping into the same people all the time who happen to be in the metro/bus same time as me every day. And I've got reasons to believe that this must be quite a common phenomenon with most of us.

I've also got reasons to believe that all the girls reading this post must have their own story of a boy who was a stranger but still remains memorable. Like boy in the coffee shop. Boy in the bus. Boy in the mall. Well, so this is my story about the boy on the metro.

FYI, I'm usually at my defensive best when travelling alone. I deliberately put up that expression which screams don't-ya-dare-mess-with-me for people who can't help themselves but pass lewd comments or follow young, pretty things for no reason. Ain't I modest? **chuckle**

I'm usually the kind of girl who would be walking unusually fast, almost running (coz I'm always late), carrying a REALLY big bag, looking serious or talking to myself as I walk. Not the perfect mental picture for a "pretty young thing". Ain't it. It was already dark when I left college yesterday and it was still 5.30 pm in the evening. Winters, I tell you. So, I once again assumed that fierce, strong-girl exterior and headed to the metro station.

By the time, I reached upstairs, the metro was already stationed there with it's doors about to be closed. And hell, I was still on the escalator slowly approaching the platform. I dashed towards the metro, frantically running on the escalators and managed to squeeze in the metro, with the doors closing just behind me.

I smiled and congratulated myself. Doesn't matter, that half of the compartment filled with most of whom what seemed like "middle-aged people" returning from office were already looking at me. I thought what they must be thinking, "Oh, these youngsters who do not have enough patience to wait for five minutes till the next metro but will obstruct the closing of doors" and other shit.

I chuckled at the thought and looked searchingly in the compartment for a seat. Seriously, with all the running, I could use some space to sit. God Bless the person who invented "Seats reserved for Ladies". I saw a young boy sitting there....and again I went "Oh boy, that's my seat, get off it" in my mind.

So, I simply went and stood in front of him. Clever boy, He understood the hint, looked back and saw the sticker behind him which said, "Only for Ladies" and politely got up, offering me his seat which I gladly accepted.

That is, when at the next station, I saw him. I saw him standing on the platform even before he got in and thought to myself "Aw,, that guy is HOT". The train stopped, and he got in my compartment. "Great", i thought.

As I was contemplating why I had been fixating on this stranger, I realized he had sat down next to me.

In the empty seat that had cleared out.

For the woman who had gotten on at the last stop.

The woman was still standing there.

WHY DID YOU NOT SIT DOWN???? I mentally screamed at her.

Ok, this is not good. The boy I had nearly drooled over was SITTING NEXT TO ME.

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat.

What now? Stay calm. Stay. Calm. Caaaaalm.

I tried not to look uncomfortable and just to play it safe, started looking in the other direction. But I could almost feel his shoulders touching mine and I was freaking out. And sweating. In Winters. Weird.

I hope he doesn’t notice. I snuck a look at him out of the corner of my eye. He seemed completely oblivious to my existence. Well, he’s probably too cocky to even consider me to be in the same league as him. Although I usually don’t care much about appearances, my pride was slightly hurt at the thought of this. I mean, I know I don’t look like a model, but I can look decent when I want to. And today, I looked fairly decent - at least, I thought so. I mean, I was wearing purple, and I only wear purple on days when I actually colour-coordinate my outfit. So there. I was looking decent today, and yet I was totally invisible to him.

Argh, stop it pink. I’m sure he’s used to girls tripping over themselves to get his attention and I am NOT going to be one of them. I REFUSE to be a silly giddy girly-girl who swoons over pretty boys!

Wait.I am a silly girl. I am just not a girly girl and I definitely, DEFINITELY do NOT SWOON OVER BOYS. And he would definitely, DEFINITELY not be interested in a girl like me. His girlfriend is probably tall and skinny, with long tanned legs and wavy, dark brown hair, and big eyes with long eyelashes…

Before I knew it, I was picturing his supermodel girlfriend.

No, he probably has more than one supermodel girlfriend. A guy like him definitely has someone on the side. Probably two. Or three. Or four.

Then, suddenly he threw something, trying to be incognito but I noticed..

What?! Did he just litter INSIDE THE METRO?

Ok, now I am not a freak about littering or anything, but I don’t throw garbage out of moving vehicles either. I was not impressed. So I snuck a (what I hoped to be distasteful) look at him. But before I could deliver the full distaste-look, something in his lap caught my eye.

A pack of cigarettes.

Oh great.

Now we have a litterer and a smoker. And a (possibly) major player. This just keeps getting better and better.

I turned away and looked out the window. I am so over this guy, I thought, which made me smile because I had fallen for the guy in less than a second, then gotten over him before the metro ride was even over. I am SO good at this “swearing off boys” stuff.

See pink, this is good, this is what you want. Boys like him make you feel insecure and disappointed and not good enough. Without the baggage of swooning over every pretty boy that walks by and wondering if your hair is in place, you’re so much freer and you can smile stupidly and not care who’s looking at you strangely or whether that’s a flattering look for you.

I was proud of myself.

We ended up getting off at the same stop and I almost skipped off , feeling extraordinarily rah-rah power-to-the-women / who-cares-if-I-don’t-look-like-a-supermodel-I’m-still-beautiful-on-the-inside. But I allowed myself a glance at him as I walked away, because I wanted to see, from the perspective of my girl-power self, whether I would still swoon like I did when I first saw him getting in the metro.

And, maybe the heat had gotten to my brain and was making me see things, but when I glanced over at him, I caught him looking at me as we parted ways. And I grinned.

Good things happen when you meet strangers. ~ Yo Yo Ma

An year older, A lil more wiser.

So, it was my 21st birthday last week. (Yup, I don't think that I'm already old enough to be lying about my age, so there!) It was definitely not one of my best birthdays ever to say the least.
However, I'm here on my personal space, not to discuss how good or bad my day went. Over the years, I have realized that age is not just a number. Your birthday might pass in a matter of few hours, but it leaves a permanent mark behind, where the realization dawns that okay, you are a lil more older and hopefully, wiser.

Your birthday is just another day which comes in a year. It might be special for you, but for the rest of the world your special day is just like any other day. They get up,. go to work, keep sleeping, get drunk, get laid., fight with their boss, laze around...to each his own.

It might sound strange but It's like a pattern. Every year, around two to three weeks before my birthday, I suddenly realize that something has changed. Changed about me. It's kind of funny, you know. It's this deja vu kinda feeling where while getting dressed in front of my mirror, I suddenly have this realization...."wow, pink, you have changed" .The awareness of how my perspective on things has changed. I wouldn't do things now which I would gladly do two years ago. And the next feeling is "Arre, didn't I felt the same thing last year as well"?

I admit I have changed a lot with time. It is in moments like these, when you are only with yourself, that thoughts filled with inexplicable wisdom hit you for a split second and leave you feeling a lil more wiser. So, what did I learn from myself this year?

  • I realized that my mad rush for a dream career, top scores isn't what matters most.
  • Contrary to what I believed, shopping does not make me happy. Maybe for a few hours, but then it's not worth spending pots of money on things I'll hardly use, all for momentary happiness.
  • I now prefer watching funny videos on Youtube, talk to people who are good or simply go for a walk when I want to feel happy.
  • On my last birthday, almost all of mine office and college friends, called me at midnight, to wish me. This year, I doubt if they even remembered it since I'm no longer in the office or same college. No birthday calls and very few text messages indicated what I'd missed out on. I'd missed out on investing in true friends, people who stay with you even when you change your workplace.
  • I always thought I disliked boys and can never fall in love with any other man than my bf. I'm forced to reconsider my thoughts now.
  • Do not expect. The less you expect, the more happy you will be with what you get.
  • I'm a lil more interested in boys now which was perceived as an "improvement in me" by my BFF.
  • I want to spend a little more time meeting people who are mature, intelligent and can think. I've had my fair share of fellas who are too busy acting immature, updating their playlists or scoring over girls over internet chats, girls shopping aimlessly and ooh'oohing over their new fuck-me heels every time somebody talks to them.
  • I wonder why and how do girls, my age, manage to shout to prove their point. I almost feel like telling them, " there is nothing sexy about shouting. So, please shut the F up". Raising your volume cannot compensate for your lack of logic or common sense.
  • Also, I want to be surrounded by people who do not scream "Oh fuck" or " ^%$^&%^ in Hindi everytime their pen drops down. Seriously, save your curses for something more worthwhile.
  • I love people who are funny, unassuming and who do not get tooooo serious about life without losing their focus. I wonder where are all of them?
  • Your friends aren’t perfect either. Being the first to forgive and forget can go a long way.
  • Holding a grudge just isn’t worth it.
  • Don’t take everything too seriously, you’re too young for that.
  • Nobody can love you like your parents can. But it's still fun to search for that special someone.
Too much of self-introspection for now. Morale of the story is that I need to loosen up and be a bit more easy going this year. And yes, not to take things or people too seriously who do not matter.

P.S.....m breaking my rule...not including a picture this time....coz m not in the mood to put one. period.

I care not so much what I am to others as what I am to myself. I will be rich by myself, and not by borrowing. ~Michel de Montaigne

Are you ready to do it?

There are certain things I never talk about on my blog.......Sex is one of them. For some strange reason, I believe I have never really felt the need to write a post on it. There is too much of it around us already. Internet is brimming with it. Films portray it. English songs are literally pregnant with suggestive lyrics, People have it (in their minds). But there is one thing which has left me wondering pretty much and I can't help myself but write about it.

I came across this article in a prominent fashion magazine about what is the right time to do it? I was intrigued by the title and thus, gave it a read. Initially, I thought Why does one need to write an article on it? It's a damn personal decision. To each, his own.
It was only that I finished reading it that I was left bemused, astounded and left thinking. The statistics in the article said that according to a survey, Indians stand last in line when it comes to losing their virginity. Most Indians generally do it when they are 19-24 age as compared to Americans where standard age is 13-18 and Europeans who get their cherries popped latest by 17.

Truly, India in 21st century is America of the 60's where talking about sex is still taboo. We, Indians are quite an hypocritical lot too. If a man does it before marriage, he's a stud while a woman is branded a whore. Needless to say, Indian women are forced to adopt a hypocritical approach to the issue of sex altogether. Mothers teach their daughters to abstain from it till marriage because if a guy is getting the milk for free, why would he bother buying the cow?

The scenario in few metropolitan cities might be a bit different and liberated but I'm discussing about the state of affairs in India (with all its villages and small towns included). To quote the massive difference between the thinking of two genders, Here is a snippet of confessions I read in the magazine.

An Urban guy who was interviewed - I can't wait to relieve myself of this burden of virginity. The maximum I can wait is till 22 years old. The sooner I lose it, the better. (truth be told, this is the viewpoint of most of my male friends too. no exaggerations).

An urban female - No, I think I'll like to wait till I get married. There are other important things like career, education bla bla bla. But reasons for staying a virgin by this certain 24 year old , unmarried girl really impressed me. When asked didn't she felt that she was losing out on something by remaining a virgin while all her friends are doing it? She answered "Oh sure, would you like to know what all am I losing out on?
  • I'm missing out on worrying every month if I'm pregnant
  • I'm missing out on lying to my parents and leading a double life.
  • I'm missing out on getting up morning after and worry if my bf would dump me or if he would marry me at all and when?
What really shocked me was when this male friend of mine confessed that he won't wait till marriage to lose his virginity. However, when asked if he would like to marry a non-virgin, he flatly refused! And said that no man would accept a girl if she had had serious flings before. Wow!!!!. I wondered whom did he intend to lose his virginity to? To a pros? coz every other respectable girl would lose her chances of getting married by helping him to "relieve him of his burden".

One of the popular reality show on Star plus projected a 30 year old man saying he preferred to marry a 21 year old contestant as compared to other older girls as her chances of being chaste were far more. Woohoo.

Priyanka Chopra is seen admitting losing her heart and virginity to a neighbor who later dumped her in a film, What's your Rashee. Why did she said that? Was it really that important? Did she really think that her future NRI husband was a Mr. goody two shoes with no sexual past???

Young girls are always taught that Virginity is dignity. I wonder then why the hell are Adolescent Indian boys and young men are so eager to lose their dignity.
Frankly, I still believe in the traditional concept. It is better to wait for the right person or till you get married before you indulge in the never-to-be repeated act. And do not end up regretting it. Like I earlier said, To each, his own. Some say that these worries are only in mind while sex is a purely natural and physical act. But isn't sex all in the mind? Alas.

F for ????

I'm so damn hungry , I think I could even eat a horse right now. Well, now you don't need to take everything that I say, quite literally. :p
I'm sitting in the class and there is some old bugger standing in front of me, lecturing away to glory on god-knows-what. Most of the people around me are trying to "study" on social networking sites. Some others are busy scanning their laptops...tsk tsk.
And yours truly has been surfing on the net. For food. Good, delicious, tempting food.

I came across this blog while some random surfing and the blog is all about food, adventure, surfing and more delicious food. Aah, some people do have perfect lives. And I can't help feeling all the more hungry with every passing second. Gotta admit, this is one of those moments when all my worries to maintain my weight and having to stay in shape go out of the window.

All I can think about is:
  • Chicken (its Navratras, starving sucks)
  • Chocolate desserts
  • Tortilla Chips
  • Smoothies
  • Frozen Yogurt in Mint Choco chip flavor
I'm beginning to wonder why the hell don't they offer frozen yogurt sundaes in India? I'm so tempted right now. Just the thought of having something sinfully sweet and delicious and still healthy ( yes, it is completely fat free) is so damn tempting.

It's almost 11.30am and I still haven't had my breakfast. Maybe that's why I'm blogging about food because frankly, that's all I can think about right now. I want to eat a frozen yogurt or a chocolate dessert or roasted chicken. Even gulab jamun will do. Yes, you get my drift. All I can care about right now is food. Good food, that is.
Man, they were right when they said
"Stay hungry, Stay foolish". :((

I'll hit this space back to post something more sensible, perhaps when I have had my fill.

I came, I saw, I wandered......

My life is moving too fast...I'm too busy attending classes, finishing assignments, remain perennially nerved up. The best part is that I can't convince myself that I'm learning anything. About Journalism at least (coz that's what the subject for my majors is).

Life is hectic. I wake up, make assignments early morning, get ready while my mom keeps shouting in the background how my life is so disorganized.....how I've made a wreck of my health....How I'm always in a bad mood....how guys would reject me for marriage proposals.....(god, like I really need to know that first thing in the morning! ). Mothers, I tell you.

I usually grab my stuff and rush out of the home, mentally preparing myself for the two hour long delhi-darshan trip to my college. Now, my college is near Chandni Chowk in Old Delhi (very far from my home). I take a bus, then change the metro twice and finally take a rickshaw in order to reach my college.
I would have never really discovered this place had it not been for the location of my college. My emotions usually go for a flip whenever I reach Chandni Chowk metro station. I automatically transform from a Spoilt-urban girl to a more thoughtful, compassionate person.

The exit of the metro station is marked by same beggars who greet me everyday, sitting in their exact place, calling out the same blessings. These are the deformed, small children, their mother is selling some random stuff nearby, their younger siblings lying in the shade of trees, busy playing with rags. My heart goes out to them. I'm not much of a charitable person by the way. But I surprised myself the other day when I bought some corn (bhutta) for an old beggar lady who was looking at them with longing eyes. She didn't even realize that I was giving it to her for free, she just took it and went away limping, without caring to throw a second glance. I paid the hawker. "This girl is nuts", he must have thought. He gave a slightly mischievous smile and took the money. Now, it's a habit with me. I buy stuff for these people, when I'm forced to, by my instincts.

I move out of the metro station, take a rickshaw and watch people still sleeping on the pavements, outside Sheeshganj gurudwara. Some of them look doped, maybe they are. Some of them are simply sleeping there for lack of other options. Do they even realize that day has dawned, that traffic is rushing past them, that foreign tourists who are out here to "explore the real Delhi" are clicking them? I guess not. These are the anonymous stars of Real India. Perfect stuff for some documentary on Discovery channel, but someone whom you would not like near you in any other circumstances.

The rickshaw takes a turn, and the majestic Red Fort and Jama Masjid come in view. Interestingly, this bare stretch of one kilometer has a famous gurudwara, Jama Masjid, the beautiful Jain temple and a church. And they say, secularism is a thing of the past.

I reach college and forget all about it. And it happens everyday. I somehow find it strange. I give stuff to beggars, act compassionate because somehow I still believe I'm a very cruel, uncompassionate person who does not visit temples, does not even pray, swears like a sailor and has almost no real friends around. And helping them apart from giving me immense happiness and satisfaction, also gives me some peace of mind. It helps me to reinstate faith in me, it helps me to believe that I'm not a very bad person. Only a bit maybe.


Have you ever just looked around and thought: "This is all just a memory" ? I have, and multiple times. For what we are looking at right now, living at this very moment, is going to be a memory in a matter of minutes, and boy do we have a lot of memories.. from the good, to the bad, to the down right "I wish I couldn't remember that!" But I do, and with extreme detail, as if those things happened yesterday. But whatever, that's life.. right? It must be terrible to not remember anything. Memories are what keep you entertained when you're bored waiting at the doctor's office or on a long car ride. What do you think about then, when you have no memories to relive over and over?

I've come across people who often confused deja vu with memory? Deja vu is a feeling when you instinctively feel as if the entire situation, the surroundings, the people, the entire scene is being repeated in your life. As if it has happened before, even if it hasn't.

But I've had instances where I feel as if the moment I'm living right now, is soon going to be just a memory in the chapters of my life.

So what do YOU think about?
Can you believe I was asked that once? What do I think about.. Hmm.. I can't just say ONE thing, cause I think about a lot of random things, they just pop up in my head randomly. I relive a lot of moments over and over, I think a lot about the "what if's", I daydream about situations that are never going to happen, I play a song over and over in my head, I wonder what other people have lived, I imagine how it would be like to be someone else, I fantasize about unbelievable things, I just look out the window and think... Am I ever going to live that moment again?

Things that were hard to bear are sweet to remember. ~Seneca

Thinking of another.......

"You, as much as anybody in the entire universe, deserve your love and affection!!!"

This was a SMS i received three years ago. From a random, middle aged stranger and I still haven't been able to fathom it.
You must be wondering why did a stranger message me? And how on earth did he got my number?
Well, it was a warm December morning. I had bunked my college to be with my best friend at Connaught Place (Delhi). We were sitting in the central park when suddenly this middle aged man came up from nowhere telling us that he was new to the city and kinda lost in CP. He was looking for his driver and requested if he could use our cellphone to call his driver up. Gullible, as I was, I promptly gave him my cell thinking he deserved to be helped.
After calling up his driver, he struck up a chat with me and my friend. Told us he was a theater director from Mumbai and was in Delhi to visit a show at IHC. I will not deny the fact that the man seemed genuine, well-read and intelligent. We chatted with him comfortably, thinking of him as a man of our father's age...(somebody who definitely wouldn't flirt with a first year college student, that's me).

Later, that evening, I got a call from a Mumbai number. Apparently, it was the same middle aged guy inviting me to attend his play at IHC. I politely refused. And, since then, rudely ignored all his calls and messages.

After a month, I got this message and somehow it sticks with me. I don't know if it was an insult or suggestion.Maybe it was his way of getting back at me, of not reciprocating to his calls and invitations. I don't know why I keep it. I've never heard from that old man again. But it has been there in my inbox since the last three years. Will delete it the day I understand it.

But today, there was something more I learned about love and affection. And won't rest till I've blurted it all out. I've learned that it's weird being in a long distance relationship It's that sometimes I forget that there's actually two people and not just one pair. I forget that there is this one person who has willingly made a choice to
  • call me up everyday, no matter how tired he is!
  • to listen to my random ramblings, pacify the bitch in me when I go mad without losing his cool (all this over the phone, being quite a few hundred kilometers away)
  • to bear up with me!
  • I forget that this person here with me is making the choice to stay with me every aching minute of every day, never mind that his physical presence is not felt;
  • that this person is not obligated to be here, but that he simply wants to because he cares about me and loves me that much.
But then there's days I remember that this other person is not an extension of me, that he sometimes makes decisions I wouldn't make, and do things that I wouldn't do. So when something like that sets us apart, it feels weird, that one of us is not in the same page as the other, sometimes not even in the same sentence. It might be upsetting and even infuriating, but at the end of the day you realize that what's important in a relationship is just being able to work together to make it a team again and not a competition.

No one means all he says, and yet very few say all they mean, for words are slippery and thought is viscous. ~Henry Brooks Adams, The Education of Henry Adams, 1907

She is still calling you....

So, this is it guys. I haven't been very active on blogsville of late, courtesy my new college. The admission hysteria and the mad rush for assignments, projects and what not has been taking up all of my time. I haven't even had the time to jog or go for my morning walks. This college forces me to leave home by 6 am. Yes, it's that early.

But, but, but, I'm not regretting my decision to come to this place. Not even for a second. Pursuing a master's in journalism at Times of India is akin to learning the tricks of the trade from the horse's mouth. I couldn't have asked for anything else. Right from interviewing random people on the streets, making documentaries, visiting news channel studios, et al. I'm in the process of doing it all. And it's fun. Since the last few days, I had been too submerged in assignments. One of them was rather interesting. It was on autobiography of a female foetus. My work got appreicated, mainly because this is one topic i could relate to. I'm posting a short snippet of my long assignment here.

An Aborted Female Baby's Call

It’s me, mom
It’s me, dad
It’s me, granny
Your baby speaking from the waste bin
your female baby
that you murdered
last night
with the help of
that doctor and her staff
I cried
I screamed
I begged
but nobody
heard my screams
then I went dead
after the poison was instilled
into the womb
where I was growing
you, mom
you, dad
you, granny
made all the arrangements
for my murder
after sonography
you were in so much of the hurry
to get rid of me
that you did not even
discussed the matter
I began shivering in dark
in uterus
when I felt the decision of
your eyes
your heart
your mind
to detach my soul
from my growing body
and send me to the world unknown
heaven or hell
you were not bothered about
you all felt peaceful
after I was
withdrawn dead
into pieces
everyone confirmed my body
to be of a female
which was then thrown into the waste bin
I am still lying in the bin
waiting for the van
that collects the bio-medical waste
and carries it up to the incinerator
Kindly convey my heartiest thanks
to the driver who carries the van
to the people who are working on incinerator
for performing my last rites
Mom, I am gone now
Dad, I am gone now
Granny, I am gone now
I know
I do not belong to you, now
of course, you still belong to me
until my body parts perish
so I request you to fulfill my last desire
be there at the incinerator
until my cremation
so that I may travel peacefully
to God's place
and make him understand
please don't send female babies
in the womb of those moms or the families
for whom
they are unwanted
please don't
subject your babies
to the pain of murder
only because they are females
please understand, God
It is easier for them
to murder
their daughters
than to
murder the social evils
evil traditions
that make the girl child
EVERYONE ELSE WHO WANTS TO WISH MY DEPARTED SOUL TO REST IN PEACE is invited at the incinerator that disposes off bio-medical waste.

All about Agony (causing) Aunts

How many times has an aunty looked at you and said, "Haw beta, you have grown so much?!" or "Haaw, kitni kamzor ho gayi hai"!
For long I have despised aunties who have asked me, “Beta, what do you want to do when you grow up?” Useless aunties who have got nothing better to do in their lives than to ask me what I want to do with mine. I want to make this very clear for all constant career-enquiring aunties. I HAVE GOT NO BLOODY CLUE. So Dont Ask, I will lie.

First of all, I have already grown up. I don't really see how much more up I'm going to grow. Secondly, I am not kamzor. I have happily shed my extra flab by exercising. I'm fit, not "kamzor" as they put it. Thus, I'm assuming whatever I'm doing now is pretty much whatever I'm going to be doing for the rest of my life. Don't pester me constantly by asking which college am I targetting? Like do you see a rifle in my hand? How can I tell you which college am I "targetting"?

After my college ended, this annoying aunty one day caught hold of me, ready with her killer question.

Annoying Aunty: So, what college are you targeting?
I: That one.
Annoying Aunty: Which one?
I: You don't know?
Annoying Aunty: Which one?
I: That one only.

I can't tell you the glares which my mom gave me for trying to take that aunty for a ride while she was silently ordering me to shut up via her angry glares. But trust me, it was worth it. I still have a good laugh about it whenever the incident crosses my mind. :p

I have a theory to explain why aunties constantly ask only career questions. All aunties are made in this Infosys Bangalore campus where they have a common code fed into each of their heads. They are programmed only to ask career or academic related questions. Have you ever seen any aunty ask you any other question except ones related to studies? Has a single aunty ever asked you which part of American Pie series is your favourite or Which beer is better? Foster or Budweiser? Tell, tell. My point exactly.

I wonder what would happen if I ever asked an Aunty what she wanted to do when she grew up. The circuits in her brain would spark and fuse and blow up. And then she would probably go around in circles saying "Itni badtameez hai inki ladki" in the entire society till the time I get more infamous than Britney Spears.
You know what Sachin Tendulkar would say if an Aunty asked him what he wanted to do when he grew up? He would say, “Aila”. See? That's what the successful people are doing to their aunties.

How many such aunties have you encountered? 2? 6? 16? Temme soon! Comments main duh! :)

P.S. - The image incorporated in my post is for reference purpose only. No impersonation intended. Hope this will keep copyright enforcers at bay. Like I care! :)

Life...as I know it

Have you ever felt like sitting back and watching your life go past you? In a rushing speed? No, it wont stop to take note of you. Life is so short to stop for anyone, you know. I feel like typing gibberish today. No, i wont blame it on the writer's block.

It's my wish. Alas.....
I'm confused. It's evident.

Life is simple. We know it. It's we who make it complex. You know how?
By interacting with other people. I remember reading it somewhere that out of all the living creatures, humans are the most difficult to deal with. No, I'm not trying to overstate or misintepret the facts. It's scientifically proved. Humans are the most difficult species to deal with. Because every indvidual is different. Unique in their own way. Then there are individual details, such as ego, temperaments, jealousy, competition, bonding et al.
Aint it surprising that we deal with so many humans (look around yourself, duh) and still we are the happiest only when we have their company?

Enough of my philosophical thoughts here.
I need to update my blogger friends here of a few recent happenings in my life. Here goes:
  • Post my last rant post, I headed to the hills. Sans family. I needed it after all. My first single trip was great. Like a backpacking, no budget, adventurous trip. Away from the humdrum of city. Returned last night. Will post pictures soon.
  • I finally got through Times School of Journalism in Delhi itself. I received the news in midst of my trip. Like I needed it.
  • I also cracked the job interview which pays awesomely well. Considering I'm just a graduate whose final results are not out yet. The deal is not too bad.
  • Now, I'm at crossroads again. Parents want me to take up the job. I want to pursue further studies. Trouble, I tell you.
Coming back to the topic of humans, I've realised certain things about myself while on the trip.
I realised
  • I try too hard to please everyone around me.
  • I try to be polite even when I don't want to/don't need to. This is going to stop, I tell you.
  • I have everything in my reach, I simply need to go out and demand what is mine.
  • I need to be more assertive.
  • I need to understand people without judging them. I need to discern who is right and who is not. Learn to look beyond the masks they wear.
There are also certain things which might not sound too pleasant to you readers, But I'm glad I have made these changes.
  • I do not hesitate now to call a spade a spade. Felt bad? Not my problem.
  • I'm considerate towards whom I need to or should be. Rest aren't even noticed by me.
  • I express my feelings instantly. Happiness, gratitude, joy, anger. All of them. F@#k those who fake their feelings.
  • I do not keep my feelings bottled up now. I vent my anger by smashing things, whatever comes in my way. My parents aren't too happy about this recent development though.
  • I've finally turned into a full blown rebel. I always was one. But it is only now that this facet of my personality has manifested itself so prominently.
I'm finally not complaining. I'm sitting back watching my life rush with all the humdrum. Awesome feeling, I tell you.

F for Failure

There is only one thing I was ever afraid of in my life. The thing was/is Failure.

How does it feel to know you haven't suceeded for an endeavor you tried so hard for?
I always used to wonder how does one face themselves again?

For the record, I've never failed in my life. Like till now. I was the girl who got straight A's in high school, managed to get through a decent college in the best university of the country and cracked job interviews like anything.

However, there is a first time for everything. For failure too.
Before writing this post, I was going through my last post where I was apprehensive about my post grad entrances.
As the previous post mentions, I had cleared three major colleges for journalism in India while the result for fourth one was awaited.
Thank you for all the supportive comments which my fellow bloggers left for me but I'm afraid I've let down all of them.

I left for Mumbai last Sunday for my Xaviers interview.
The interview was great, they said they liked my portfolio and all that jazz. People around me were confident that I would crack it.
I returned Delhi the very next day. Went online to check the result. My name wasn't there. I cross checked it thrice. It still wasn't there. As if mine checking the result again and again would make my name appear there.

I went down to tell my mum who was still unpacking. It would be an understatement to say that she was disappointed. I, on my part, was shattered. Went numb. I couldn't cry. Couldn't sleep. It was so suffocating.
Parents announced they had cancelled my tickets for chennai. Reason? Did you ask?
They claimed that I wasn't worthy enough to go all the way to Chennai, for another interview only to fail again. Wow!

Btw, that Chennai interview was supposed to be today. And I was sitting here in Delhi, sulking.

I was rejected in Mumbai interview.
Managed to miss out on Chennai interview simply coz my parents thought it made no sense to bear more travelling expenses on a failure child like me.
Delhi result is still awaited.

I saw my mother telling everyone that I was not going to Mumbai coz I didn't like the place. She chose not to tell others that her daughter was not selected. I felt so insulted. I screamed back at her why did she lie? Why didn't she tell others that I was rejected? I felt so stupid. She was embarassed to admit my rejection.

It was not until I met my best friend that the final catharsis came around. I broke down in front of her. Badly. Had kept myself locked in a room since the time my result was announced. She told me just one thing. That I was feeling so bad for failing in an interview simply because I had never faced failure before. She was right.

I pondered on what all I had lost. Sure, I've missed a year. And my chance to become a good journalist. At least for another one year.
But the good thing is that age is on my side. I'm only 20. So, its ok.

Insults have become a part of life now.
Almost everyday I'm rebuked by my mother for failing. I'm compared to my successful MBA topper, MNC-working elder sister and how I'm utterly worthless in front of her. She forgets that my sister spend a whopping amount on her MBA. They forget that I'd cleared my entrance exams too for MBA, but had only changed my career option coz I was literally presuurised not to force them again to shell out copious amount of money on my MBA.

I forced myself to face my failure.
Why do we all love to brag about our success and achievments but recoil upon failures.
I did not feel like writing a post on this subject. But then If I would have written a post on any other topic apart from this right now, I would be lying to myself. How can I question my mother for lying about my result if I, myself, can't admit my failure?

I've decided just one thing in my life now i.e. NOT TO PLAN FOR ANYTHING. QUE SERA SERA.

I've run after enough entrances and jobs. I'm in no mood to join back a job soon, though I know I eventually will have to.
I've turned shameless.
I just keep sitting at home. Try to enjoy my holidays just like rest of my college mates have been doing since April.

I'll give my exams again next year. With probably more work experience and wisdom at hand.

Failure is the oppurtunity to begin again more intelligently. ~ Moshe Arens

When you get everything that you want....

If you don't get everything you want, think of the things you don't get that you don't want. ~Oscar Wilde

I have always believed in the above mentioned saying whenever I'm unable to get something I really wanted. But life is funny. It throws unexpected questions at you. Questions, whose answers cannot be sought in the intellectual, age old quotations. These are the questions which make you think "Bhagwaan, Oscar Wilde iss situation pe quote karna kyun bhool gaya??" (Oh god, how did this situation escaped unquoted in Oscar Wilde's times?) :p

I had always been an above average student all my life.
Above average? Yes.
Smart? Yes
Frigging intelligent? NO.

There were times when I used to see students appearing in newspapers, topping CBSE, cracking IIT, IIM's and what not. I was happy being an ordinary girl who never scored too high or did exceptionally well to feature in such newspaper ads. I was contended simply by reading these articles and marvelling at their intellect. (yeah, go ahead, call me complacent, like i care)

College ended. Most of the students in my class entered d Rat race (MBA yaar). I was still contended doing nothing while they appeared for CAT, SNAP, XAT.......

Some of them decided to do MA. I was still happy not being in the centre of attention. (not doing anything, you see ;)

And then, I surprised myself. I don't know what struck me. I decided that I want to be a journalist since writing is what I like. I filled up forms only for some of the top colleges in India for a masters in Mass Communication. I knew it right from the start that I'm not going to make it becuase:
  • the competition in these colleges is extremely tough
  • I'm out of the loop when it comes to GK (a must have to crack them).
  • I've never really been those kurta-wearing, intellectual journo types.
I simply gave them with a dance pe chance maarle kinda feel, which also means I never tried to prepare for them. If I get through, fair enough. If I don't, i'll continue working.

And I seriously think that god visited my blog and read my rants in some of my previous posts like here.
I'm an atheist btw. But this sudden change of events has forced me to believe in the "maaya" of god. I only appeared for entrance test for four top colleges in India. Out of the four, I have qualified for three. The result for the fourth one is awaited.

I was happy when I was selected for St. Xaviers, Mumbai
I was contended when I cleared TCJ.
But when I actually managed to make it through ACJ, I shocked myself. Now, ACJ is one of the top most colleges whose entrance test asks you questions like
  • Who is the prime minister of Zimbabwe?
  • Which recession hit European nation elected a female as their new prime minister overnight? Name the country and its new Prime minister.
  • Why was Gaza Strip in news in February 2008?
mind you, these were the questions I actually faced. If anyone of you reading this blog knows their answers, I salute you becuase I obviously didn't. I left 70% of my paper blank and walked out of the examination hall in 30 minutes flat for a 3 hour exam. :p

And dude, I still got selected!!!.
They say they liked my English section in entrance exam. **pats herself on the back**

I know I should be happy but the catch is I have my interviews lined up.
On 9th June- 11th june, I'm supposed to be in Mumbai for Xaviers interview.
On 12th -14th june, I'm supposed to be in Chennai. Ironically, I need to be in Delhi on the same days as well for Times interview. Now, how will i commute from Delhi--Mumbai-Chennai/Delhi all in one go?

Moreover, I've still not been able to get tickets for Mumbai -Chennai. Summer hols rush, they say. Ab tickets ki wajah se interview miss kar dun?

Do I need to say I'm shit confused, frustrated, aghast?
How will I make it?
Moreover, My boss refuses to give me a leave from the office....damn.

I really wanted to get into these colleges. But now that I'm so close to it, I think Oscar Wilde was wrong.
If we dont get everything that we want, Life is a lot easy.

Scattered thoughts .......

People always come up to me and tell me that I think a lot. Maybe I do, maybe I don't. What leaves me thinking is that was it a compliment or a complaint?
Coz in my writing profession, ideally, it should be considered as an asset but the expression on people's faces around me suggest otherwise. Nevermind.

Once again, I'm standing at crossroads in my life. I don't know where will I be one month hence? Would I be studying somewhere? Would I still be working? Will I have to leave my hometown and move away??
questions, questions...they flog my mind. I'm restless. I'm tired and still there is so much more that is yet to be achieved.

I'm partly happy that I will be moving away. I always wanted to live alone. To experience freedom in its true spirit. To take charge of my own life and the added responsibilities. I'm sad at the thought of leaving my comfort zone. Of ditching all the luxuries I've always been so used to.

Ever since college has ended. Strangely, I feel I've matured overnight. I've had too many experiences, met too many people. There are people I would always treasure and people I wouldn't even like to recall about.

There is always this random wishlist which keeps going on in my mind. It might take a backseat when something more important comes up and demands immediate attention. However, the wishlist again comes buzzing back in my mind, reminding me of the things that I definitely want to achieve/do/say.

  • I once read somewhere that the world is like a book. And those who don't travel read only a page. I want to travel endlessly. Set out for an unknown destination and not return back. I guess I would love to be a travel writer one day. The idea of a journey exhilirates me.
  • I want to buy my own car, and a luxurious one. Mind you.
  • I want to be more assertive in my outlook. Not take bullshit from people who don't or are never going to matter in my life. I'm glad I'm already working towards it.
  • I always thought moving to a different city solves all your current problems by helping you start your life afresh. As the time for moving away nears, I wonder maybe it doesn't.
  • There have been a lot of people who came, stayed and move away from me in this journey called life. I can't even recall most of them today. For some, I wish that they would never have been there in the first place. These are the people who ditched me, deceived me, made me cry and finally, helped me to wisen up.
  • I always wish only if I could get a chance again to be face- to-face with those mean people. Only this time, I would let them know how much they suck. And what big, fat losers they are. But on the hindsight, I'm glad I'll never meet them again. I have no place for bitches in my life now.
  • And there is a really long list of people who came into my life only to make it more meaningful. I found a mirror soul in a dear friend, called Prachi. I allowed myself to become a woman who has for once loved selflessly, who has for once given his heart to a man and not regret it. Thanks mickey mouse.
Mickey says I have a problem with my life. I have a pretty luxurious life, btw. But still, I'm always slogging myself, testing myself, epxeriencing all the harsh realities which perhaps, I really didn't need to considering my comfortable upbringing. But then, that's life.

I think there is something baking in my oven..

A random talk between two female friends:

Girl 1 - Hi, I think I forgot something

Girl 2 - Hey, what is it?

Girl 1 - I think there is something baking in my oven and I'm also afraid I might be pregnant.

Girl 2 - Oh my god!!!. Well, lets try rushing back to your home and switch off the oven because that's an immediate problem...what if it led to a short circuit?? bla bla bla

Girl 1 - No, turning off the oven in my home won't help.

Girl 2 - (confused) - But how? We can rush, turn off the oven at your home and then take you to a gynaec for a check up. What say?

Girl 1 - (agitated) - Duh, by something boiling in my oven i mean there is something boiling in my uterus. I forgot to take precaution last night and I'm afraid I might be pregnant!!!

Girl 2 - Ohhhhh......

Moral of the conversation? No, its not to use precaution. Ok, that as well but one more thing which surfaces out of this conversation is that we, women, the fairer sex, the empowered sex or whatever are actually quite confused regarding ourselves.

Yes, I, who has always been a staunch feminist said that. I just said that!
I am not particularly fond of men or their unhygienic habits/lifestyle. However, one cannot deny the fact that men, no matter how laid back they may be are seldom confused regarding what they need to do at a particular point of time. I am not saying they never are confused. Obviously, its a catch 22 situation for them when they are made to choose between Going out on a date with this hot, new chick on the block or watching a live match between Manchester United and Arsenal. :p

ok, i kid, i kid, i joke , i joke!!!

But I, Prianca who had made fun of men in soo many of my previous posts, like here and here , is eating her words today.

I was always very proud of the decisions that I take for myself. The guy I chose as my Bf, the college I went to, the course I graduated in, the career choices that I make for myself, my dressing sense.......Yes, I am/was proud of it all.

Until I realised that this is not all that I want.
  • I do not want a staple 9 to 5 job. Damn, my current job exceeds up to 6.30 pm (how I am hating it)
  • I do not want to let my arse have a gala time, bulgeoning away to glory while I remain seated on the same work station for long hours.
  • I've realised that I still want to be a writer. But being a fashion editor of some good magazine or fashion journalist wouldn't hurt. Right girlies?
  • I don't want to remain stuck in this job where all I do is review guy stuff like gadgets, play stations, navigation systems and give my animated opinions about them. The funny part is that the stuff I review and give my opinions in a " I -myself-have-been-using -this-product-for-such-a-long-time"tone, is completely alien to me. I might even not have seen this products in real life, let alone use them. THIS IS SO NOT HAPPENING.
But everything boils down to just one thing. I cannot complain to anybody because the decision to take up this job was taken by me. And damn, the decision to leave it, too, will be entirely mine. And pretty soon enough.

  • I've realised I'm not happy being out of college. In fact, I've applied in all the creme de la creme colleges of the country for a post graduation out of my sheer frustration. I sooooooo want to get back into campus life. Yeah, I'm contradicting myself. (refer to my previous post).
  • On certain days, I realise that I will never want to do a job altogether, sitting on the same chair in the same environment, watching the same faces everyday.
  • The lure of a fat pay package can no longer tempt me. I am going back to college, by hook or by crook.
Men, in my life, on the other hand have been pretty sorted out. I perceived them to be casual/not serious about their career. In the hindsight, I guess they always knew what they want to do and they are doing just that- enjoying themselves thoroughly. With no high aims, no slogging and no high expectations out of themselves, they are a relaxed and happy lot. Give them a mug of beer, a comfortable sofa and an exciting match to watch..and the most complacent smile will appear on their face in no time. The bottom line is they are satisfied with their life. I am not. Rings a bell?

I am not saying that men are better than us, women. They can be our equals but better? Naaaah.
However, they know what they want to do, what they dont want to do and how to live happily. Maybe that's why they make good drivers. Alas....