Life ain’t fair and the world is mean.. 

Ripped jeans have been around for a long time but I don’t recall when this trend attained extreme and unimaginable lengths where celebrities were wearing literally rags for exorbitant prices. And I am pretty distressed by these distressed clothes making way into our malls and our wardrobes. Shirts that look like they have been nibbled by rodents, shrugs with holes that seem like cigarette burns, and tears in the jeans.. the less we talk about it, the better.

It speaks volumes about us as a society that follows the deranged trends blindly and with utmost enthusiasm. Where the rich think dressing up like a derelict is something chic. Those people with limited means work hard to get a decent meal and a pair of decent clothes. Nothing is amusing where some have compulsion to wear distressed clothes and some proudly pay to wear them as fashion.

Life is anything but fair. The more I look around the more I realize that. And not just in terms of dressing. As I joined my friends for a cycling trip, I couldn’t help but feel apologetic when I saw the old watchman struggling on his old cycle. We cycle for pleasure or to lose weight but then some people have to cycle endlessly to reach their office or school. 

We all tweet or post those rain drenched Instagram pics of our tea, Pakoda and romantic stuff. But the poor do not share the same ebullience on sight of the sudden downpours. For some it means dripping roofs and walking through miles of puddles and slush. We spend our money, time and energy trying to lose weight or at times starve (read as healthy eating) to get into the right dress. But some people manage with a square meal a day and not tattoo words like believe, strong, goals all over their skinny bodies. It’s not resilience for them, it’s misery. We boast of following our passion, our dreams. What about those who spend their life working so that they get food and house for their family?? 

Despite our big advancements in medicine, technology and education, how much of the benefits actually reach the downtrodden and needy? Does any of it help them increase their life expectancy or reduce the disparities? We are fortunate enough to have the privilege and opportunities that come with it. What we actually need is empathy. Because nothing is more cruel than turning a blind eye to the suffering of others. Without compassion we cannot call ourself as civilized or even humans. 

If I could save time in a bottle.. 

It’s been an year… How time flies..one year back it would have been impossible to imagine my life like the way it is now. The people who I thought were going to be with me forever have been left behind. Some really good friendships ruined due to misunderstandings. If only we could turn back the clock and do things differently, the right way… How much ever we may long to come back to the old days and grasp at the shadows of those memories, they are moving away from us..it’s just the way life is;all about moving on,accepting that some things are never meant to be. Swallowing the lump in the throat and gathering whatever pieces left of your broken heart and hoping that those memories will be enough to hold it all together.  

In pursuit of happiness

Another year has come and gone. You may be wondering why I am talking about the NY now. Well, it was my b’day couple of weeks ago and everyone who wished me asked me the same damn question. How did you celebrate your day? And I hate to admit that the enthusiasm diminishes a bit every year, the cake-movie-dinner routine is simply unexciting. These calls always make me wonder why wait till the year end to celebrate all the good things that have happened to me. Shouldn’t I rejoice every day for the fact that I am alive and be grateful for all the things that i take for granted because so many are deprived of them.  I don’t need to wait for a valentines’/fathers’/mothers’/friend’s day to let the people who mean the most to me know that they are valued, appreciated and needed and how lucky I feel to have them in my world.

I am not the chirpy bundle of joy always and I have my share of those dark depressing days too. But a close encounter with really bad health and a surgery which led to me being bed ridden for months made me aware of the transient beauty of youth, love, life. I now want to celebrate every morning as a precious privilege to be alive, to breathe, to think, to enjoy the health, wealth, my family and loved ones. I want to seize every second and savour it, enjoy the little things like a cup of tea, or lying in my warm bed, lazing around with a book, watching the sunset at the beach or just gazing at the stars from my roof. Simply put, I just want to be happy; today, tomorrow, the day after and every single day that I get to be alive.

Garbage in, garbage out is so true for the thoughts and actions too. Only if we are truly happy, we can spread this warmth and joy to others too. I’ve newly discovered a weird feeling of warmth in my heart that now crave for… I might spend thousands at the mall and still not experience the happiness when I offer my favourite snack to a hungry co-passenger, stop the traffic for an old lady to cross the road or buy an extra ice cream for my uber driver or flowers that I didn’t need from an old man. The smile of the children in an orphanage on receiving the old toys was something that I might not forget even if I get dementia. It was the most humbling day of my life.

I’ve finally realized that it’s not how much we have, but how much we enjoy that makes happiness. Of course we need money to buy that latest gadget, that car or even an apartment. It may be delightful for a moment, a year or even a decade. But this happiness never lasts, the gadget is obsolete, there’s always a new model of car, the apartment will be that boring box where you’ll always feel trapped. You don’t have to do something expensive or luxurious to find happiness. Simple things too can be made extraordinary.

Labels are for jars

The other day out of sheer boredom, I took up a Buzzfeed quiz to figure out if I am an extrovert, introvert, ambivert or extravert. The number of labels used to describe people seems to be growing exponentially.  Facebook sometime back added 71 gender options for its users. You heard that right. Seventy One gender options because male or female is no longer progressive enough. I had an entertaining time imagining such scenarios in our Indian weddings, especially where people enquire caste, gotra and other useless stuff. Now you need to tell the granny if you are M/F/ Polygender/ Bigender/ Intersex/ hermaphrodite/ Pangender/ Two spirited… BTW I didn’t come up with these options, you can Google the complete list to quench your curiosity! Anyways, this reminds me of the wedding season approaching fast and my general dislike of any such gargantuan social gatherings which are the norm in our country. In totally unrelated news, I am a die-hard fan of section 144 of criminal procedure code which prohibits the assembly of more than four people in an area.

Now I am not the type of girl who is all curled up in a corner, suffering a breakdown from social anxiety but neither am I the star of the party surrounded by the many fans. But then again I whole heartedly abhor the general expectations to be an over-expressive, vivacious, chatty, bubbly, energetic girl that people want me to be at such gatherings, open up to the extended family members or even complete strangers despite my apparent lack of willingness or even familiarity. It’s not just these gatherings. En general, I sense we Indian girls are expected to be that Geet character from Jab We Met movie. Cheerful girl with childlike innocence, eternally happy, pretty social who goes to new places and does the small talk so effortlessly that she opens up her heart and narrates her life story within minutes of meeting a complete stranger. Someone who could be in the company of people 24 x 7 and would still feel super energized the entire time.

The sad part is if you lack any of the qualities mentioned above, or refuse to indulge in the useless, senseless conversations or mostly gossips, people happily label you as an “introvert”, and now you have a truckload of problems to deal with. You will obviously be misjudged and misunderstood as rude, impolite, proud and if you are lucky enough, stupid or lousy. The worst is being perceived as lonely, depressed or suicidal! Nope. Being compared to that charming, enthu, attention grabing cousin is the worst feeling. Trust me. It’s a constant battle which nobody understands, not even your peers. Guys are afraid to date the quiet ones. There is someone always who asks “You don’t talk much, are you always like this?”. Like some kind of vamp who keep plotting things in my mind or the sad, heartbroken and damaged type.

How hard it is for people to understand that not two individuals are alike. Not everyone is loud, garrulous, hyper excited charmer. Not every shy one is insecure or anti-social. May be I like to express my opinions when I feel there is some meaning to the discussion. May be I like to listen, think and subsequently engage in a conversation that interests me. May be I like mellow music and not the constant humdrum of words around me, maybe I simply revel in the silence and absorb the chaos around me. May be I am indeed dejected and depressed by stuff that is happening in my life and would not like to wear the mask and have that fake happiness radiating from me.

People should realise that not everyone conforms to their out-dated, narrow and intrusive views or stereotypes of how a person should be. There are some sensitive souls who value solitude and personal space and this must be respected at all costs. And if you are open minded, respectful and patient, you might someday discover that the insecure and shy person would turn out to be the most enjoyable, funniest, engaging person around.

A thing of beauty is joy forever

Taking a break from all the ranting & whining. I just wanted to share some random clicks of the most delicate and beautiful things in this world. flowers. They come in all sizes,shapes and sometimes growing in the most unassuming places.People say where flower blooms, so does hope…

I don’t have any clue about their scientific names but I call them jhumka flowers.. for they resemble dangling earrings.(darjelling)

dsc02641.jpgIt takes Two to Tango 🙂dsc02638.jpg

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Nope. Not a publicity for any damn party.. 😛 (lotus lake, Shillong)camera-pictures-383.jpg

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From my gardenimg_20150117_121148

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Lil hearts spotted once in yercaud..img_20161127_114418.jpg

If you love flowers, you’ll never pluck them…

Indian men & staring…

 

If you are a woman living in India, any village, town, city or from any social strata, you surely know what I mean. You can be a student in high school or a mother of two kids. It doesn’t really matter how “covered” you are or what kind of place you are hanging out in or the time. You can even don the cloak of Invisibility, and still be baffled. For these men will stop at nothing; they will look for you, find you, and stare at you incessantly.

It may seem harsh, this negative generalization of all Indian men as sexually deprived & depraved creatures and I certainly don’t want to get into the semantics here (few, most, all..). But i’m sure any woman who has been through this situation might truly understand.There are some men who will turn away if you stare hard enough, and then some who will make you wanna vanish into thin air. Some strangers and some known ones. Of course there are men from conservative parts who stare. We can try to excuse that for the lack of sex education or the obvious lack of interaction with any member of the opposite sex. There are guys who are caught unaware by the glamorous lives of the cities. What about the ones born and bought up in the cosmopolitan environment??

It is so imbibed in the genetic mind-set that women are objects that give a sense of entitlement and ownership to men. You have sex with a woman to show your dominance and power. Respect, intimacy, pleasure and tenderness are totally alien concepts. Consent is not even a word in their dictionaries. Men who come from families deeply rooted in patriarchy and chauvinism, who don’t mind showing a woman her place, without an iota of hesitation, guilt or even remorse.

I am no scientist but here is my attempt to decode this national pastime of our country. Women are taught (mostly by some of the most embarassing experiences) to ignore those stare that undress them and do unmentionable things. Stares that make you ditch your skirt for a jean, jean for a salwar, sleevless tops to full arms. Alas! Little do these women know, some men find whole truckload of perverted pleasure just by looking at that poor bra strap! Then there are some who stand strategically in crowded places to get you into that picture. With smartphones & cameras these days, the already flimsy personal space has literally become non-existent. At a recent holiday in Goa, had to rescue a foreigner when a bunch of men wanted to take a “picture” with her, despite her clear No to that harassment. Lol. She didn’t know that  lot of men grow up believing that when a woman says NO, she actually means Yes.

I tried asking some of the men that I know why this happens and some erudite ones tried to enlighten me. Obviously it’s a natural thing. Men are made to pursue women. Darwin.Desire. Lust. That’s the way the brain is wired. The ‘guardian of Indian culture’ proudly proclaimed that unlike west, Indian men don’t do perverted stuff openly. Later I understood he was referring to PDA and not peeing in public. 😀

The avid reader said,”it’s a western conspiracy to malign the Indian men as rapists/sexual predators and stuff like this happens all the time in all the countries”. The avid traveller said  it happens “because we don’t have strip clubs, legalized porn and sex toy shops in India”. The forever grumpy one said, “Women complain  only if the guy is ugly..”. My personal favourite was “ Girls take so much effort to dress up for US(men)..so we should make sure that beauty is appreciated. You can’t cover up Taj Mahal. A thing of beauty…”. John Keats must be turning in his grave hearing this.

So obviously we women are over-reacting to these lovable men who can’t figure out which actress/model we resemble. We are destroying a budding Picaso or Van gogh from creating their masterpiece. We are stopping the guys from finding the perfect sati-savitri, the genius ones that derive the morality of a woman from the total area of the body covered. I could have done my doctorate in this topic but then I had to stop when ‘He who must not be named’ took this opportunity to make me aware that men prefer women who are covered, just like how we prefer candies in a wrapper and not the ones lying without one. I can’t even….

Reflections

Can’t really believe it’s the end of 2016.Another year has flown past in the blink of an eye. Another year of memorable memories and miserable heart-breaks, mistakes, lessons learnt, adventures and experiences. Some people may feel it’s just the time taken by the earth to make one revolution around the sun but for some it’s the time to brood over the stuff they have done in the past 365 days. We are already being subjected to the numerous year end listicles, and not wanting to be left behind, here is the list of my fuck ups this year, things that sucked and stuff that made me want to make the time stop and cling on to the moments.

I sucked at letting go of toxic people who bring only drama and negativity and thrive on hatred, arrogance, passive aggressive behaviour and total disrespect just to bloat their low self-esteems. People who lead a wretched life and want to inflict their misery on others and lead you to a guilt trip, People who wear masks pretending to be concerned about you but actually gloat on your misfortunes. I reluctantly understood that I need to associate with friends who inspire, challenge and enrich the soul. I have finally let go of these people who mean nothing to me from my life and never felt freer.

I totally fucked up my career and finances, my goals and ambitions. I quit my job and left my classes incomplete. Somewhere as the months passed by, I realized that life is not a competition or some video game where you have to complete certain milestones at certain age. I was free falling towards the bottom of a materialistic pit. I considered shopping as therapy but it was the addiction. Today the only thing I care about is collecting moments, making memories and experiencing things. I stopped making excuses for the life I wanted to live; I became its co-creator rather than the victim.

So much changes in a year and so much still remains the same. All we can do is come up with a plan and hope for things to happen as we wish. Sometimes it’s better to go with the flow, embrace all the uncertainties and live life with reckless abandon to enjoy the fleeting moments of fun. My memorable times this year were dotted with love and affection of friends and family, road trips and that amazing last three months spent in doing what I love. Travelling without worrying about time or the destination.

I wish that the coming Year is free from the shadows of the past, brings in new adventures, bittersweet memories, new friendships and exciting stories. So many places to be, things to do… it’s a race against the time…

 

 

 

Pink

For someone who doesn’t shy away from speaking my mind, there have been very few instances in my life where I was stunned into silence. As I walked out of the theatre after watching ‘Pink’, I was quiet blown away and it seemed so hard to shake off. Despite the flaws, Pink certainly is a big leap for Indian cinema especially where most movies portray harassment of women as courtship and stalking as romance. Pink illustrates the deep set prejudices, narrow- mindedness and crippling patriarchy in our contemporary society, without being preachy.

While the premise of the movie is consent, it masterfully brings out the ugliness and double standards, the trauma women face every day which makes it so easy to relate to and identify with. Every single lewd comment, sleazy looks, prying neighbours, peeping toms and sniggering colleagues came flooding to my mind and made my skin crawl as I watched the ordeal of the girls on screen.

The pertinent issue highlighted here is that as a woman, you are constantly judged for what you wear, how you act, the time you get back home and of course, your sexual history. The perceptions and the never ending justification required about your life choices, about habits, drinking, tattoos, male colleagues dropping you home, etc.. Even the tiniest of the moves always comes under enormous scrutiny. Then there is the humiliation and blaming of victims, people who make you believe that you have done something to provoke the men into acting the way they did. Know what, it really doesn’t matter how you are dressed, whether you are drunk or sober, virgin or not. A No, it always means No.

Change is difficult to come by; centuries of putrid conditioning of male entitlement and the judgemental mind-set that bind women into stereotypes will not be vanquished overnight.  While realism is abandoned for hope in the reel situation, there seems to be no end to actual injustice in real life. The shocking judgement in Soumya murder case is ample proof that we have a long way to go. Till then let us hope that this tiny drop of change has a ripple effect on the ocean.

break free

A wanderer with head in the clouds and heart on my sleeves,

I want to feel the vastness of the mountains engulf me

As a stand at the peak that is washed with the first rays of sunlight.

To watch the gentle kiss of the butterfly on the petal of a shy tulip,

To soak up the perfect harmony of colours splashed across the velvety lush fields,

To tune in to the wind’s whispers, walk every unpaved path and the road unknown.

I yearn to break shackles of the clocks, barriers and materials of the world,

Be free from unfounded fears, failures, judgements, prejudices and pains of the past.

The irresistible craving to live free, run wild with a touch of madness and reckless abandon,

I want to spread my wings and soar high like the bird whose spirits knew no cage.

Explore, discover, become..

Today on Teacher’s day, I would like to thank one certain teacher who has shaped much of my adult life, my experiences, my thinking and my character. As cliché as it sounds, for me travel makes the best teacher. And I certainly mean no disrespect to the hard working teachers who have been solely responsible for every academic progress I have made till today. But once exposed to the world out there don’t we all feel that the real education happens outside the classroom. We don’t have to travel to some exotic city, take a trying trail on Himalayas or relax at some glamorous beach to enjoy the joys of an adventure. But I tell you, the only money worth spent is the one spent travelling.

As a lover of nature, travelling soothes my gypsy soul in such a satisfying way that I carry back the treasures of the air, the sky, the sea and all the surreal sights with me for eternity. I have received such jolts and those flashes of epiphanies while admiring the colossal majesty of nature, the understanding of our ephemeral existence in the eternity of time. And as I travelled to the faraway places, something changed in me, something so profound and permanent, that it first left me speechless and then turned me into an unassuming story teller.

As I travelled to unknown societies, I understood and even assimilated their unique cultures, languages, etiquettes and lifestyle and in the process discovered the commonalities shared for art, food, music, belief and traditions that bind us together, the underlying reasons behind why the societies are shaped in a particular way. I learnt that despite our differences, we all are the same somewhere deep down our hearts. All those prejudices will be blown away when you meet real people who touch our hearts and make us feel at home, so far away from our home.

I strongly believe that we are meant to travel, to explore, to discover to live…else we would have roots instead of feet. Travelling fills our soul and stretches our mind by the sheer force of the experiences that it cannot go back to its old dimensions. And trust me, the only trip you are going to regret is the one you didn’t take..