Terrible realization that am inching towards my mid twenties and no clue what am meant to do yet.
Reading this article I realized, i don't even have any of these books on my reading shelf. http://www.buzzfeed.com/doree/books-you-need-to-read-in-your-20s?s=mobile
Time to make my bucket list of things I need to do before am married and gone.
Thursday, May 16, 2013
Tuesday, March 12, 2013
Friday, March 8, 2013
Long mails deserve a reply
Imagine this - you wrote a long email with the hope that it will be read, and you ll get a decent reply. After 3 days of waiting, you lose hope and forget about it. Then you get the classic few worded reply. " let's talk" and to this you wait again.
My whole life I have spent waiting. Waiting for replies. Waiting for the first moves. Right now, I know I deserve a reply. Long or short am just waiting for my story to unfold.
My whole life I have spent waiting. Waiting for replies. Waiting for the first moves. Right now, I know I deserve a reply. Long or short am just waiting for my story to unfold.
Monday, January 14, 2013
White flakes of joy
And London saw a crazy happy woman walking on the streets wearing a grey hoodie, with a huge smile stuck on her face. Yes I saw my first snow at 6. 30 am
This is after jamming my fingers last night at the window. It's sign. Look out the window
This is after jamming my fingers last night at the window. It's sign. Look out the window
Crossing fingers and experimental weekends
So what am I upto this Sunday. Baking a cake or rather experimenting with it.
I mixed the cake batter and then realised I don't have a big enough vessel. Used the left over batter to make cookie cakes. See picture below. Sticky cake batter on cookies. Jus when I finished I tried to open my windows and ended up having my fingers jammed. Now I can't even cross my fingers on the hope that my experimentations with baking turns out good
I mixed the cake batter and then realised I don't have a big enough vessel. Used the left over batter to make cookie cakes. See picture below. Sticky cake batter on cookies. Jus when I finished I tried to open my windows and ended up having my fingers jammed. Now I can't even cross my fingers on the hope that my experimentations with baking turns out good
Saturday, January 12, 2013
Ramblings of a cynical love head
Is romance dead? Am not talking about the red roses, cards and dinners, but the Big Bang romance.
Candlelit dinners are just cliche. The Big Bang romance of it would be,
The candles on the beach. The candles on a rooftop with a picnic dinner. Candles by the lakeside. No one does this anymore.
Cards are just cliche. Big Bang version of it would be skywriting or post-its at a frequented cafe, or 100 words of the good times written on a never ending long strip of paper.
Flowers are cliche. But flowers stuck on a pole with a note of where you first saw her that's Big Bang.
So these rantings are from seeing flowers stuck on a pole at a busy street.
Picture posted
And no am not caving in. Romance is still dead. You just got to look at the right corners of the street they say.
Candlelit dinners are just cliche. The Big Bang romance of it would be,
The candles on the beach. The candles on a rooftop with a picnic dinner. Candles by the lakeside. No one does this anymore.
Cards are just cliche. Big Bang version of it would be skywriting or post-its at a frequented cafe, or 100 words of the good times written on a never ending long strip of paper.
Flowers are cliche. But flowers stuck on a pole with a note of where you first saw her that's Big Bang.
So these rantings are from seeing flowers stuck on a pole at a busy street.
Picture posted
And no am not caving in. Romance is still dead. You just got to look at the right corners of the street they say.
Tuesday, December 25, 2012
..........
The cold sheets are crying for you. Every inch of the house have traces of your being. Don't let it fade.
The walls long to hear the sighs of sweet joys. Don't let them forget our music.
The couch has gone cold and needs your warmth. The telly is being watched but prefers watching you.
Of lying beside you, of being watched while I sleep, of sweet nothing's whispered. Come back soon
The walls long to hear the sighs of sweet joys. Don't let them forget our music.
The couch has gone cold and needs your warmth. The telly is being watched but prefers watching you.
Of lying beside you, of being watched while I sleep, of sweet nothing's whispered. Come back soon
Saturday, December 15, 2012
Snowy wishes
My birthday wish was to see snow. Birthday is over And the closest i got to snow is the pic. And also some fake snow.
After all that wishing for a perfect birthday and it turned not close to perfect at all. Or maybe it did.
I officially hate my birthday as goes all my posts. Here is my theory you turn a year older, yeah good thing. But do you deserve it? Did you do good the whole year. What's your key achievement? If nothing comes into your head you know you ll jus have a sucky birthday.
I try to jot down my happy things.
1. London
2. 4 amazing people who will be on list.
3. I was secret Santa to so many people
4......
And I could not count further. Either an unaware or am seriously out of things to count.
So I made a deal with God. Make me see snow. Make me happy.
So the day before my birthday I am in Edinburgh wishing it will snow when I get back to London.
Lying on the ground were these dried leaves and grass covered in frost. That kept my hopes high. I will see snow.
Europe trip could not happen before my 24 birthday. But my snow wish had to come true.
Reached London feeling super ill and super low. Had a rift with a friend yes on the night of my birthday. And also caused a rift with my friends back home. I had people yelling at me. And all I could do was sulk.
Perfect start to my new year.
So the next morning the day of my birthday. I went to another birthday party.
A 1 year olds birthday. On my way in the cab I was talking to my friends of how I wished for snow. A perfect gift for my day. Just that exact moment I could see flakes of white drifting in the wind and falling on the busy street. I squealed more like screeched. "It's snowing"
But to my utter dismay my joy was short lived. The cabbie laughed and said its fake. Some commercial shop was using it part of their promotions. Sulked the whole ride to the party. And the cabbie just smiles at me and said "Happy birthday am sure snow is not the only thing that will make your birthday a happy one"
And he was right. I had an awesome time at the kids birthday with whom I shared my birthday.
My friends came over later in the evening and got me idli sambar. Yes idli sambar in London. The happy replacement for a cake. That with a nice bottle of wine.
And we went out dancing. So it was a Happy Birthday.
Not a perfect one like I wished for. But I know when I get back home to India. It will be all made up for. My hope for snow will remain.
After all that wishing for a perfect birthday and it turned not close to perfect at all. Or maybe it did.
I officially hate my birthday as goes all my posts. Here is my theory you turn a year older, yeah good thing. But do you deserve it? Did you do good the whole year. What's your key achievement? If nothing comes into your head you know you ll jus have a sucky birthday.
I try to jot down my happy things.
1. London
2. 4 amazing people who will be on list.
3. I was secret Santa to so many people
4......
And I could not count further. Either an unaware or am seriously out of things to count.
So I made a deal with God. Make me see snow. Make me happy.
So the day before my birthday I am in Edinburgh wishing it will snow when I get back to London.
Lying on the ground were these dried leaves and grass covered in frost. That kept my hopes high. I will see snow.
Europe trip could not happen before my 24 birthday. But my snow wish had to come true.
Reached London feeling super ill and super low. Had a rift with a friend yes on the night of my birthday. And also caused a rift with my friends back home. I had people yelling at me. And all I could do was sulk.
Perfect start to my new year.
So the next morning the day of my birthday. I went to another birthday party.
A 1 year olds birthday. On my way in the cab I was talking to my friends of how I wished for snow. A perfect gift for my day. Just that exact moment I could see flakes of white drifting in the wind and falling on the busy street. I squealed more like screeched. "It's snowing"
But to my utter dismay my joy was short lived. The cabbie laughed and said its fake. Some commercial shop was using it part of their promotions. Sulked the whole ride to the party. And the cabbie just smiles at me and said "Happy birthday am sure snow is not the only thing that will make your birthday a happy one"
And he was right. I had an awesome time at the kids birthday with whom I shared my birthday.
My friends came over later in the evening and got me idli sambar. Yes idli sambar in London. The happy replacement for a cake. That with a nice bottle of wine.
And we went out dancing. So it was a Happy Birthday.
Not a perfect one like I wished for. But I know when I get back home to India. It will be all made up for. My hope for snow will remain.
Monday, June 25, 2012
Cynical lovehead
4.30 am on a Monday morning. Yes the favourite day of the week Let's not get into monday theory for today and divulge on the love theory for a bit. Yes its official now I have joined the #foreveralone club with my cynical attitude towards the love life of mine. Rather a lack of it.
Every typical girl dreams that same day her knight in shining armour will come in a white steed and take her away to some far off place. Not my dream. Yes there was a time I must have imagined a disney love story for myself. Not anymore its never gonna happen. Not dismissing men by saying they are all losers who will crush your soul and put you into an abyss that will make you wish again for some fairy or prince to rescue you. am just saying it is not possible.
Ideal men don't exist. Exceptions in favour which for me, shall not happen. Some adorable dating couples I know are perfect. The boy gets soup for her from her favourite restaurant when she is too sick to cook. At the same time I know of couples where the boy makes the girl chauffer him to his college reunion and makes her go home alone. Second exception most likely to happen to me if I ever had a car or a bf. Or I might end up paying him a cab fare and I would be stranded alone with no money and my phone dead.
And am way too adorable and also way too independent few of the reasons why dating anyone would be wrong. I come across as a hyper and happy girl. Ideal girl for some. But here s the glitch this cynical pessimistic attitude towards love has made me lose out on so much. I know to set it right I need to change. Here is the problem I can't seem to.
There is no such thing as true love. Its just but a game of roulette. You find someone perfect today. Great conversations, happy laughs, same interests, all that jazz. Then what? How do you know its forever? The conversations die, the smiles fade, new interests come up. I have been asked out by some perfect men, ideal men but then I don't like this dating game. To stay in it a task in itself and the players seem like losers. So its best I don't play the game where I need to be tagged to someone always and have an exit strategy.
Mom has doubts I have swung the other way. Its hard to explain that am just confused. I never want to date anyone. Maybe someday someone will sweep me off my feet and give me the whirlwind romance I deserve but that said it will NEVER happen to me. Yep pessimistic I shall be always on this.
I have my friends and family till then, who ll get me soup when am sick, or take me for icecream when i need it most, or pick me up from my wild crazy adventures. But then eventually they ll get their priorities in a different order and i ll be forever alone and old.
Saturday, April 21, 2012
Friday night rants
Sleepless friday night can be blamed on my new Tablet the Xoom :D.
Happy smile on my face can be blamed on the box of Godivas
Throbbing headaches have begun again and am hoping my its all okay.
Annoying neighbours are having a party and I spotted a cute guy.
Instagram, Fancy, pininterest are just addictive.
He did not talk to me or smile at me today. Will live with yesterday's memory of his chat.
I still am un-romantic but has a huge crush on an utter loser.
There is no food in the house again, breakfast shall be had at Alila, and i complain of going broke everyday.
Obsession with the new Kid is fading.
Am still awesome. And i have survived.
Happy smile on my face can be blamed on the box of Godivas
Throbbing headaches have begun again and am hoping my its all okay.
Annoying neighbours are having a party and I spotted a cute guy.
Instagram, Fancy, pininterest are just addictive.
He did not talk to me or smile at me today. Will live with yesterday's memory of his chat.
I still am un-romantic but has a huge crush on an utter loser.
There is no food in the house again, breakfast shall be had at Alila, and i complain of going broke everyday.
Obsession with the new Kid is fading.
Am still awesome. And i have survived.
Thursday, April 5, 2012
Denial
Denial: This should be an official vacation spot. Dont understand why is it looked down upon.
A perfect holiday spot. where everything is right. Where your career is a Breeze. Your life is one amazing cafe at the beach. Where all you have to do is put up your legs in bliss.
But then that evil man in the white coat brings you back.
I want to stay in DENIAL my life is amazing there.
A perfect holiday spot. where everything is right. Where your career is a Breeze. Your life is one amazing cafe at the beach. Where all you have to do is put up your legs in bliss.
But then that evil man in the white coat brings you back.
I want to stay in DENIAL my life is amazing there.
Wednesday, April 4, 2012
Cause I cant sleep
Call me weird but my stress buster is i laugh and i ll write and i ll tweet, even if it never made any grammatical sense.
And yes Attention Seeker, Drama Queen is now playing a very important part in the play of her life.
And YES I AM FINE :D
And i thought i am not a romantic, apparently i am. Treating people like projects, bringing smiles to even the meanest idiots, always smiling. I need to stop being so happy go lucky in life
And yes Attention Seeker, Drama Queen is now playing a very important part in the play of her life.
And YES I AM FINE :D
And i thought i am not a romantic, apparently i am. Treating people like projects, bringing smiles to even the meanest idiots, always smiling. I need to stop being so happy go lucky in life
20 Minutes
A certain someone who will read this eventually is gonna go #faceplam "and you blogged about it, really?"
Yes Yoda i did.
What if you realised that in 20 mins your life is gonna change. Maybe for the better or for the worse.
That dream trip may come true but what happens to you in the next 20 mins can ruin your chances for it.
That one phone call you longed for will not happen if you do something you are not meant to in the next 20 mins
Twenty mins in that white magnetic field chamber has changed the course of my life. My dream trip is not gonna happen. I am never gonna make that phone call. People around me are going to look at me in a different light. You will realise that all that you dreamed about is just a make believe.
Twenty mins and your life can change.
Hoping that this all this just goes back to normal in the next 20 hours and it does not turn into a drama that am making of it.
Yes Yoda i did.
What if you realised that in 20 mins your life is gonna change. Maybe for the better or for the worse.
That dream trip may come true but what happens to you in the next 20 mins can ruin your chances for it.
That one phone call you longed for will not happen if you do something you are not meant to in the next 20 mins
Twenty mins in that white magnetic field chamber has changed the course of my life. My dream trip is not gonna happen. I am never gonna make that phone call. People around me are going to look at me in a different light. You will realise that all that you dreamed about is just a make believe.
Twenty mins and your life can change.
Hoping that this all this just goes back to normal in the next 20 hours and it does not turn into a drama that am making of it.
Thursday, March 15, 2012
Someone You Knew
Life and its strangest ways.
Everyday you meet people, everyday you lose people. And the encounters define or mar your life. This post comes from a series of encounters i have had with different people over a long time. As one good friend said to me "people are projects to you right? " he said it in a way that even i would not have been able to put it across.
Every time you are questioned on your actions, as to why do you even care about someone, why do you sometimes justify even their meanest actions. Humans are complicated. Nothing can be done about that.Its this complication that challenges you. You try to justify everything that a person does to you. All those someones that you are nice to return your goodness or try to hurt you.
Someone insults you, you try to understand why. Someone breaks your heart you justify it by saying Your heart is meant to be broken. Everyone is weird in their own ways, they will never agree to it.Your biggest Nemesis, the one who makes you judge your own weird self suddenly becomes your obsession. You know you will hurt yourself but you still continue to touch that nerve. You know its not worth but you still give it a shot.
Why? because you are just curious too see beyond that complication. You love the chaos. You are nice to the meanest person, why? Cause people are your projects you want to see what makes them hate you. And then all these complicatedly simple people become part of your life. To all the someones you are the same. you can't hate anyone and you can't avoid anyone.
Someone who'll sweep you off your feet.
Someone who'll leave you small little notes.
Someone who gives you a smile everyday in spite of just having the worst day.
Someone who'll slap you in the middle of the road to put sense into your head.
Someone who leaves you stranded in the middle of a deserted road.
Someone who pulls your hair out of that messy bun.
Someone who sends you strawberry smileys because of the private joke between you'll.
Someone who promises to get you a souvenir and ends up getting it one size big.
Someone who you thought hates your guts but secretly loved to make you smile.
Someone sends you pink flowers.
Some one's vengeful words becomes your private humour.
Some one's unnoticed intentions come clear to you.
Some one's secret admiration becomes weird to you.
Someone who never had a picture clicked with you.
Someone who thinks your giggles are the weirdest thing ever.
Someone who hates to pose but clicks that awesome picture with you.
Someone treats you like a queen.
Someone who loves to see you cry.
Someone who hates your face.
Someone who loves to bug you, till you crack.
Someone who has a new nick name for you.
Someone to whom you'll always be their secret Santa.
Someone to whom you'll be JUST a friend.
Someone who'll walk all over you and you let them do
One fine day you do something stupid and you start regretting all that you did. All the nice things that you ever did. Blaming yourself for letting a someone walk over you and trample your spirit. You smile despite that.
And in the mess and complications you met another someone. Someone you thought you'd never meet ever again. And you meet them at the strangest place ever. A police station in the middle of nowhere, where you are filing a complaint for the other chaos that struck your life.
And this person just looks at you and you wonder if you should begin the conversation with a "how have you been" or just smile. And like the foolish thing that you are, you say
"how come here?".
To which he smiles that smile which you wanted to hate but never could.
"Being your Knight in Shiny shoes"
His sense of humour never stops. i swore i hated it before but i giggled this time. Past all forgotten.
And with that you become the someone who was at the police station distraught and helpless and the one person who you thought never cared, that one familiar face you never wanted to see becomes your hope in a very awkward way indeed. and you become theirs.
To all those someones you were their someone too. And one day your deed shall be returned. Cause life is strange and People are stranger than life itself.
Its 1 am i know and i always speak my mind when sleepy, and they never make any sense. If you did understand what's written here do let me know, cause i can never understand my ownself.
Everyday you meet people, everyday you lose people. And the encounters define or mar your life. This post comes from a series of encounters i have had with different people over a long time. As one good friend said to me "people are projects to you right? " he said it in a way that even i would not have been able to put it across.
Every time you are questioned on your actions, as to why do you even care about someone, why do you sometimes justify even their meanest actions. Humans are complicated. Nothing can be done about that.Its this complication that challenges you. You try to justify everything that a person does to you. All those someones that you are nice to return your goodness or try to hurt you.
Someone insults you, you try to understand why. Someone breaks your heart you justify it by saying Your heart is meant to be broken. Everyone is weird in their own ways, they will never agree to it.Your biggest Nemesis, the one who makes you judge your own weird self suddenly becomes your obsession. You know you will hurt yourself but you still continue to touch that nerve. You know its not worth but you still give it a shot.
Why? because you are just curious too see beyond that complication. You love the chaos. You are nice to the meanest person, why? Cause people are your projects you want to see what makes them hate you. And then all these complicatedly simple people become part of your life. To all the someones you are the same. you can't hate anyone and you can't avoid anyone.
Someone who'll sweep you off your feet.
Someone who'll leave you small little notes.
Someone who gives you a smile everyday in spite of just having the worst day.
Someone who'll slap you in the middle of the road to put sense into your head.
Someone who leaves you stranded in the middle of a deserted road.
Someone who pulls your hair out of that messy bun.
Someone who sends you strawberry smileys because of the private joke between you'll.
Someone who promises to get you a souvenir and ends up getting it one size big.
Someone who you thought hates your guts but secretly loved to make you smile.
Someone sends you pink flowers.
Some one's vengeful words becomes your private humour.
Some one's unnoticed intentions come clear to you.
Some one's secret admiration becomes weird to you.
Someone who never had a picture clicked with you.
Someone who thinks your giggles are the weirdest thing ever.
Someone who hates to pose but clicks that awesome picture with you.
Someone treats you like a queen.
Someone who loves to see you cry.
Someone who hates your face.
Someone who loves to bug you, till you crack.
Someone who has a new nick name for you.
Someone to whom you'll always be their secret Santa.
Someone to whom you'll be JUST a friend.
Someone who'll walk all over you and you let them do
One fine day you do something stupid and you start regretting all that you did. All the nice things that you ever did. Blaming yourself for letting a someone walk over you and trample your spirit. You smile despite that.
And in the mess and complications you met another someone. Someone you thought you'd never meet ever again. And you meet them at the strangest place ever. A police station in the middle of nowhere, where you are filing a complaint for the other chaos that struck your life.
And this person just looks at you and you wonder if you should begin the conversation with a "how have you been" or just smile. And like the foolish thing that you are, you say
"how come here?".
To which he smiles that smile which you wanted to hate but never could.
"Being your Knight in Shiny shoes"
His sense of humour never stops. i swore i hated it before but i giggled this time. Past all forgotten.
And with that you become the someone who was at the police station distraught and helpless and the one person who you thought never cared, that one familiar face you never wanted to see becomes your hope in a very awkward way indeed. and you become theirs.
To all those someones you were their someone too. And one day your deed shall be returned. Cause life is strange and People are stranger than life itself.
Its 1 am i know and i always speak my mind when sleepy, and they never make any sense. If you did understand what's written here do let me know, cause i can never understand my ownself.
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
Purple
Another lame attempt at acrostic poetry. Please feel free to give me your critical view on this
Purple
Pouting red across the setting sky, as the silver drizzles of rain lashed out,
Under the canopy of the dark blue and orange sky was the smiling pink sun.
Rising blue waves crashing and breaking on the white grains of sands painting blank murals, a
Pallette of colours across that beach but not a sight of my favourite colour. The one i
Love, the colour i seek. And right when i lost hope on that
Endless stretch of silver sand, there it was gleaming in the moonlight a purple gem.
Purple
Pouting red across the setting sky, as the silver drizzles of rain lashed out,
Under the canopy of the dark blue and orange sky was the smiling pink sun.
Rising blue waves crashing and breaking on the white grains of sands painting blank murals, a
Pallette of colours across that beach but not a sight of my favourite colour. The one i
Love, the colour i seek. And right when i lost hope on that
Endless stretch of silver sand, there it was gleaming in the moonlight a purple gem.
Friday, May 20, 2011
And I woke up to see my photo in the Newspaper
It really sounds great that you wake up one fine morning and you get to know that you have your photo in the newspaper. For me it happens way too frequently.
Having journo friends who call me up at odd hours to get a sound bite on something or the other to which i happily oblige. And then the off and on msgs about what picture to be used, to which they normally take my facebook pictures.
And then there are times when I come in P3 because of some theatre or art show, or some odd happenings around the city, to which mostly am unaware until i get a msg from some long lost friend who goes "Hey long time, I saw your photo in the paper about X event that happened at Y".
But this particular Msg that I got one day took me off guard. A relative msgd me saying I have come in the front page of Bangalore times. And I was expecting it to be the event I had attended the previous day. But then when he told me that it was the picture of me in a bike, I was taken aback. I rushed out of my house to buy the paper. And there it was staring right out of the front page of the Newspaper, a Grinning Photo of mine sitting on a Bike.
I did look good but what suprised me was i had no hand in it.
Read through the article and I saw that it was about this Art of Bicyle Trips. A culture trip that i had participated in months ago. There were quotes about the Trip orgainzer and other people who had participated in the trip. I contacted Pankaj Mangal who had organised the trip and asked him why is there my picture in the article, and why was i not informed about it. He claims that Nirmala the journalist was supposed to get back to him on what picture she would be using and confirm before it would be published. He was however not informed and the article was published.
I tried contacting Nirmala Govindarajan, but was of no use. TOI office number that was listed just does not respond. Tried to dig up my contacts with my journo friends who worked in TOI long ago, but still could not get any help.
If Nirmala and Pankaj do read this post, i just wannt to ask them, how can Nirmala take a picture from my album without notifying me?
When i went on the trip i never signed any form that states that the pictures from my album will be used for publicity of any form.
Pankaj Mangal, just one call from you could have saved you all this trouble. atleast i dont have to wake up to see my grinning photo in the paper.
Having journo friends who call me up at odd hours to get a sound bite on something or the other to which i happily oblige. And then the off and on msgs about what picture to be used, to which they normally take my facebook pictures.
And then there are times when I come in P3 because of some theatre or art show, or some odd happenings around the city, to which mostly am unaware until i get a msg from some long lost friend who goes "Hey long time, I saw your photo in the paper about X event that happened at Y".
But this particular Msg that I got one day took me off guard. A relative msgd me saying I have come in the front page of Bangalore times. And I was expecting it to be the event I had attended the previous day. But then when he told me that it was the picture of me in a bike, I was taken aback. I rushed out of my house to buy the paper. And there it was staring right out of the front page of the Newspaper, a Grinning Photo of mine sitting on a Bike.
I did look good but what suprised me was i had no hand in it.
Read through the article and I saw that it was about this Art of Bicyle Trips. A culture trip that i had participated in months ago. There were quotes about the Trip orgainzer and other people who had participated in the trip. I contacted Pankaj Mangal who had organised the trip and asked him why is there my picture in the article, and why was i not informed about it. He claims that Nirmala the journalist was supposed to get back to him on what picture she would be using and confirm before it would be published. He was however not informed and the article was published.
I tried contacting Nirmala Govindarajan, but was of no use. TOI office number that was listed just does not respond. Tried to dig up my contacts with my journo friends who worked in TOI long ago, but still could not get any help.
If Nirmala and Pankaj do read this post, i just wannt to ask them, how can Nirmala take a picture from my album without notifying me?
When i went on the trip i never signed any form that states that the pictures from my album will be used for publicity of any form.
Pankaj Mangal, just one call from you could have saved you all this trouble. atleast i dont have to wake up to see my grinning photo in the paper.
Monday, May 2, 2011
The Untitled Post
This post should have been published way back in the month of march. But people who know me well would also know my alter ego the laziness. But i have valid reasons now. I was busy. No seriously i was. Hong Kong Trip and work and wedding blues and stuff........... So well here goes.
I was getting sick of my routine. Tired of seeing the same old people in my cab. Having the same conversations everyday. It was slowly creeping into me. Work delighted me. But the people around me still felt the same. I was itching for a change. A holiday. Something. A new Office Crush maybe. :p but then lazy me never did anything worthwhile. I sat on the same window side of my cab. Looked at the same old sights while heading out to work. Saw the same girl walking on the crowded road. Saw the same hunchbacked guy selling flowers by the roadside.
It was on one of these normal same old days that i noticed the kingfisher perched on a pole. Its bright coloured small body perched pretty on the tall pole. I saw it one day, and the next and kept seeing it everyday. Perched on the same pole the same spot. Still and unmoving. Almost feels as though its a ceramic piece kept there.
It became a routine for me. Everyday I'd see it perched at the same spot. This went on for a couple of days. I wonder what did it even think. Did it just perch there everyday looking at people travel on that lonely road and laugh at them. Did it perch there to look into the lake and catch its fish for the day. I wonder if it ever got bored sitting at the exact same place and the exact same pole.
Sad life it must have i thought. To be sitting on that same pole everyday at the same time. Its got wings. Wings to tale it anywhere it wanted to. Sit on any pole it wanted. Fish at any lake it wished to. Strange as it may sound i thought about my life. I could also do anything. I had wings too. I could make my change. But i did not. I was making myself comfortable. Comfortable about my routine.
Slowly it struck me how comfortable I was making myself. Gone were the days were i took risks did things that i wanted to and never cared. I would not change my travel operator cause i was comfortable in taking that same particular bus whenever i travelled home to mlore.
I still took the same old bus from the same stop whenever i ventured out on weekends. No matter where i went i made sure i was close to that bus stop where i could tale my bus home.
And i was complaining even when i was at fault. And right there i took it upon myself i need a change. And i ll bring the change. So i did. Stopped taking breakfast at my desk. Sat with random people at the cafeteria. Only they were the housekeeping staff or the catering stuff who come so early but the deal was it was a change. A nice way to strike up conversations with them. I got extra juice glasses too. :p ssshh trade secret. I took walks. Each day a different person.
And then the Hong Kong trip happened. MAJOR CHANGE. That trip has a different story in itself. Did things i'd never would have done. Too explicit to be told here. :p But it changed me. I explored i ventured met people. it did not feel like routine. 11 days each a different me. One day wild, one day calm, one day crazy childlike. I was no longer comfortable in anything. Getting back to India i thought things will get back to the same. But i was wrong it did not. It still felt different. Everything felt new and nice. I was making changes. Seeing things differently. OC remains the same though :p
But then something changed. My kingfisher was not on that pole anymore. It troubled me for a few days. Almost thought it died or something bad must have happened to it. I changed my cab route and timings, got new cab mates and new conversations happened. And then one fine day i look out the window on my way to work and i see my kingfisher perched on a different pole. Its pretty little colourful body sitting on a higher pole, having a whole new perspective. So its not just me thats making changes in life. The kingfisher has changed its pole.
P.S. I could not think of a right title for this post. Help me out here guys. the comments box is right below
I was getting sick of my routine. Tired of seeing the same old people in my cab. Having the same conversations everyday. It was slowly creeping into me. Work delighted me. But the people around me still felt the same. I was itching for a change. A holiday. Something. A new Office Crush maybe. :p but then lazy me never did anything worthwhile. I sat on the same window side of my cab. Looked at the same old sights while heading out to work. Saw the same girl walking on the crowded road. Saw the same hunchbacked guy selling flowers by the roadside.
It was on one of these normal same old days that i noticed the kingfisher perched on a pole. Its bright coloured small body perched pretty on the tall pole. I saw it one day, and the next and kept seeing it everyday. Perched on the same pole the same spot. Still and unmoving. Almost feels as though its a ceramic piece kept there.
It became a routine for me. Everyday I'd see it perched at the same spot. This went on for a couple of days. I wonder what did it even think. Did it just perch there everyday looking at people travel on that lonely road and laugh at them. Did it perch there to look into the lake and catch its fish for the day. I wonder if it ever got bored sitting at the exact same place and the exact same pole.
Sad life it must have i thought. To be sitting on that same pole everyday at the same time. Its got wings. Wings to tale it anywhere it wanted to. Sit on any pole it wanted. Fish at any lake it wished to. Strange as it may sound i thought about my life. I could also do anything. I had wings too. I could make my change. But i did not. I was making myself comfortable. Comfortable about my routine.
Slowly it struck me how comfortable I was making myself. Gone were the days were i took risks did things that i wanted to and never cared. I would not change my travel operator cause i was comfortable in taking that same particular bus whenever i travelled home to mlore.
I still took the same old bus from the same stop whenever i ventured out on weekends. No matter where i went i made sure i was close to that bus stop where i could tale my bus home.
And i was complaining even when i was at fault. And right there i took it upon myself i need a change. And i ll bring the change. So i did. Stopped taking breakfast at my desk. Sat with random people at the cafeteria. Only they were the housekeeping staff or the catering stuff who come so early but the deal was it was a change. A nice way to strike up conversations with them. I got extra juice glasses too. :p ssshh trade secret. I took walks. Each day a different person.
And then the Hong Kong trip happened. MAJOR CHANGE. That trip has a different story in itself. Did things i'd never would have done. Too explicit to be told here. :p But it changed me. I explored i ventured met people. it did not feel like routine. 11 days each a different me. One day wild, one day calm, one day crazy childlike. I was no longer comfortable in anything. Getting back to India i thought things will get back to the same. But i was wrong it did not. It still felt different. Everything felt new and nice. I was making changes. Seeing things differently. OC remains the same though :p
But then something changed. My kingfisher was not on that pole anymore. It troubled me for a few days. Almost thought it died or something bad must have happened to it. I changed my cab route and timings, got new cab mates and new conversations happened. And then one fine day i look out the window on my way to work and i see my kingfisher perched on a different pole. Its pretty little colourful body sitting on a higher pole, having a whole new perspective. So its not just me thats making changes in life. The kingfisher has changed its pole.
P.S. I could not think of a right title for this post. Help me out here guys. the comments box is right below
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Conversations over chai and over just anything.
I was sitting up on my most hate full day again. The weekend. Yeah the dreaded weekend. People should rejoice about the weekend not the friday. Fridays are just evil. They make you think that the weekend is here with loads to do. With sleep to catch up on but its just that false hope. Fridays are just evil. Yes FYI i hate fridays. Incase you happen to read this without knowing me from work or twitter keep that registered. I have a love affair with mondays and i HATE fridays. I do, with a capital H.
This love affair with mondays shall be spoken about in another post cant use up all my ideas on this post can I? Considering i have woken up my lazy fingers to put this long post up.
And so yes i wake up saturday morning with that hideous song stuck in my head. Thank you Mr Vikram Bondal i shall kill you soon; played The songs from The Offspring to get it out. Worked to a large extent. And then i get a ping the usual "what you upto", "what plans you got" from a dozen of friends who have nothing else to do in life but ping me and make me feel miserable about my hate for weekends. Then this journalist friend pings about her cool job. Yes i get jealous. And guess what she makes my jealousy increase by inviting me to a play reading session.
And my lazy sleepy self gets that moment of adrenaline rush and i was off to meet her. With initial hesitation i decided its about time i do something interesting than the cleaning of the house or the aimless wandering around. Hail an auto (note to self blog about the auto drivers) the guy was extra nice. Its been long since i got an auto where i did not have to bargain and where he striked a conversation that was more interesting than my evening i think. He spoke about the different places in blore and how fast this place has evolved.
He shared his views on how rare does he find people speak kannada. Even the kannadigas have stopped appreciating the language. And then i get to the venue. The auto driver was surprised that a building like this has plays out of concern he even asked me if he should wait. I sent him off with a cheesy dialogue in kannada about how women from this soil can tend for themselves. He laughed and moved on. I wonder if he laughed at my broken kannada or did i really make sense.
The place where the play reading was to take place did not look any artistic or theatrical. Met my friend and we went upstairs. Saw a couple wit a cute chubby kid and i wondered maybe these guy are off to the same session as ours. And they were indeed. Me and my friend sure looked out of place in that tiny room filled with artistic and intellectual people. I felt like an intellectual outcast suddenly. But then we got introduced to the group. This theatre group do these play reading session's informally just to keep in touch with each other and basically have chai's samosa's and talk about plays and ideas. Garma garam chai they are called. I did not see the presence of chai or samosa's and i was craving for them.
We started of reading the play Dimetos by Athol Fugard. (p.s. Am posting this through my phone cant seem to post the link. But look it up and read the play. Its just beautiful.) I was assigned the role of Lydia. The reading began. And story took an amazing turn that i was not ready to stop for the chai i had been craving for. We finished the play and i was in love with the character of Lydia. I fell in love with her and with Dimetos. Lydia for her innocence and Dimetos for his insanity and with Athol Fugard for the beautiful play of words that kept me smiling throughout the reading. I did not care about the cute chubby kid crying in the background. Or that noisy fan creeking or the noises in the other rooms. I was in that play and could almost visualise it on stage. An enriching experience indeed.
We discussed and went into the nuances that showed up in the play. The references to apartheid, to recluse, to progress etc. Athol Fugard's play of words when talking about hands. All this put me into a different world. I knew i'd come back again. Not just for the greasy oily samosas. :)
From there i tagged along with this journalist friend to a Maloya music concert at the Alliance Française. (again pls look it up. Cant post link to tell you readers whats Maloya music is all about). The moment i stepped there i felt i was in a different world. I could hear drum beats and conversations in a different language, french of course. I felt like i was not in my country any more. The music just took me to a different world. I ended up getting sound bytes for this journalist friend. And being like a pseudo journalist. Interviewing the artist and his members.
There were a bunch of photographers sitting next to me. One did look cute. And i striked a conversation with them thats when they told me that they were having this stop over before going out to hessargatta for a night photography session. Now ain't that an interesting thing. Got them out of that concert and it turned out they were planning to go to this lake near hessargatta tonight and click pictures of the moon at the lake. All without the fear of the supermoon phenomena where the moon could cause weird occurences. With fears thrown to the winds these three musketeers were off to capture the moon at its splendid best. And it was my day to meet interesting people.
And that was how my random saturday went. With random conversations and interesting people in my day. Like Fugard said in the play every story has a Beginning, A pivot, and an End. I would not call this an end yet. I did not want to call it an end. Like the juggler i prefer to keep it on loop. But then like a case of a bad hangover i got my end at the busstop. A disappointing end.
Standing there late, all alone waiting for my bus,two men walk up near me and stand by me.
One guy asks "do buses from majestic start from here?".
I stared at him as though he was stoned. "This is mayo hall" , i said.
"ah right, but domlur buses start from here?."
"yes they go from here"
"you sure they go via here
""yes they do"
"you sure right?
*Omg yes do I look like some liar who wants people to stand next to me and ask what route buses take. *
"yes 335E goes there and Am getting into the same bus "
Acted busy on my phone, but the bugger wont stop. Almost wanted to show a krav maga move on him and make him shut up
."so are you working? Or studying?"
Did not have to answer that. The bus came and i hopped but damn it! forgot they were gonna hop into the same. The two buggers stand right next to me
. "so are you working for software?"
"No am not into the IT field"
Am so sure this guy is an engineer at some low paying company. I had to make that stupid judgement. Cause i was getting really annoyed by that idiotic stereotypical mentality these men have.
"So where do you work?"
"at an investment banking firm"
"Ah so you did your engineer and then your mba" #facepalm dude like seriously what is with you men?
" not all women in blore are IT professionals and MBA holders"
"No i just assumed cause am an engineer working in an IT firm"
"Yes i can very well assume that. And you proved it by asking me if am an engineer. Cause all engineer grads assume that the whole world is filled with engineer grads with high paying jobs at IT firms. If not they just end up doing MBA's and working in banks"
*also your conversation skills are that bad i so know that you are some topper in your batch and now you want to tell people how cool bangaloreans are who make random conversations with you*>>>i so wanted to add on and tell him this. :p but then the look on his face before i could add on was just worth it
. My blessed phone saved me when it lit up with a call. That buggers bus stop arrived i was in the mood to make him miss his stop and have him suffer but that would mean enduring him for another journey. Told him his stop was here and got busy chatting on the phone. I saw him turn back. Damn i wish i could capture that moment. That *am such an idiot look* he had on his face .
Saturday indeed was strange interesting conversations with interesting people and also some boring random people. Thats what my day's highlight was about. The beginning The pivot The end. In my case like a rotten end.
This love affair with mondays shall be spoken about in another post cant use up all my ideas on this post can I? Considering i have woken up my lazy fingers to put this long post up.
And so yes i wake up saturday morning with that hideous song stuck in my head. Thank you Mr Vikram Bondal i shall kill you soon; played The songs from The Offspring to get it out. Worked to a large extent. And then i get a ping the usual "what you upto", "what plans you got" from a dozen of friends who have nothing else to do in life but ping me and make me feel miserable about my hate for weekends. Then this journalist friend pings about her cool job. Yes i get jealous. And guess what she makes my jealousy increase by inviting me to a play reading session.
And my lazy sleepy self gets that moment of adrenaline rush and i was off to meet her. With initial hesitation i decided its about time i do something interesting than the cleaning of the house or the aimless wandering around. Hail an auto (note to self blog about the auto drivers) the guy was extra nice. Its been long since i got an auto where i did not have to bargain and where he striked a conversation that was more interesting than my evening i think. He spoke about the different places in blore and how fast this place has evolved.
He shared his views on how rare does he find people speak kannada. Even the kannadigas have stopped appreciating the language. And then i get to the venue. The auto driver was surprised that a building like this has plays out of concern he even asked me if he should wait. I sent him off with a cheesy dialogue in kannada about how women from this soil can tend for themselves. He laughed and moved on. I wonder if he laughed at my broken kannada or did i really make sense.
The place where the play reading was to take place did not look any artistic or theatrical. Met my friend and we went upstairs. Saw a couple wit a cute chubby kid and i wondered maybe these guy are off to the same session as ours. And they were indeed. Me and my friend sure looked out of place in that tiny room filled with artistic and intellectual people. I felt like an intellectual outcast suddenly. But then we got introduced to the group. This theatre group do these play reading session's informally just to keep in touch with each other and basically have chai's samosa's and talk about plays and ideas. Garma garam chai they are called. I did not see the presence of chai or samosa's and i was craving for them.
We started of reading the play Dimetos by Athol Fugard. (p.s. Am posting this through my phone cant seem to post the link. But look it up and read the play. Its just beautiful.) I was assigned the role of Lydia. The reading began. And story took an amazing turn that i was not ready to stop for the chai i had been craving for. We finished the play and i was in love with the character of Lydia. I fell in love with her and with Dimetos. Lydia for her innocence and Dimetos for his insanity and with Athol Fugard for the beautiful play of words that kept me smiling throughout the reading. I did not care about the cute chubby kid crying in the background. Or that noisy fan creeking or the noises in the other rooms. I was in that play and could almost visualise it on stage. An enriching experience indeed.
We discussed and went into the nuances that showed up in the play. The references to apartheid, to recluse, to progress etc. Athol Fugard's play of words when talking about hands. All this put me into a different world. I knew i'd come back again. Not just for the greasy oily samosas. :)
From there i tagged along with this journalist friend to a Maloya music concert at the Alliance Française. (again pls look it up. Cant post link to tell you readers whats Maloya music is all about). The moment i stepped there i felt i was in a different world. I could hear drum beats and conversations in a different language, french of course. I felt like i was not in my country any more. The music just took me to a different world. I ended up getting sound bytes for this journalist friend. And being like a pseudo journalist. Interviewing the artist and his members.
There were a bunch of photographers sitting next to me. One did look cute. And i striked a conversation with them thats when they told me that they were having this stop over before going out to hessargatta for a night photography session. Now ain't that an interesting thing. Got them out of that concert and it turned out they were planning to go to this lake near hessargatta tonight and click pictures of the moon at the lake. All without the fear of the supermoon phenomena where the moon could cause weird occurences. With fears thrown to the winds these three musketeers were off to capture the moon at its splendid best. And it was my day to meet interesting people.
And that was how my random saturday went. With random conversations and interesting people in my day. Like Fugard said in the play every story has a Beginning, A pivot, and an End. I would not call this an end yet. I did not want to call it an end. Like the juggler i prefer to keep it on loop. But then like a case of a bad hangover i got my end at the busstop. A disappointing end.
Standing there late, all alone waiting for my bus,two men walk up near me and stand by me.
One guy asks "do buses from majestic start from here?".
I stared at him as though he was stoned. "This is mayo hall" , i said.
"ah right, but domlur buses start from here?."
"yes they go from here"
"you sure they go via here
""yes they do"
"you sure right?
*Omg yes do I look like some liar who wants people to stand next to me and ask what route buses take. *
"yes 335E goes there and Am getting into the same bus "
Acted busy on my phone, but the bugger wont stop. Almost wanted to show a krav maga move on him and make him shut up
."so are you working? Or studying?"
Did not have to answer that. The bus came and i hopped but damn it! forgot they were gonna hop into the same. The two buggers stand right next to me
. "so are you working for software?"
"No am not into the IT field"
Am so sure this guy is an engineer at some low paying company. I had to make that stupid judgement. Cause i was getting really annoyed by that idiotic stereotypical mentality these men have.
"So where do you work?"
"at an investment banking firm"
"Ah so you did your engineer and then your mba" #facepalm dude like seriously what is with you men?
" not all women in blore are IT professionals and MBA holders"
"No i just assumed cause am an engineer working in an IT firm"
"Yes i can very well assume that. And you proved it by asking me if am an engineer. Cause all engineer grads assume that the whole world is filled with engineer grads with high paying jobs at IT firms. If not they just end up doing MBA's and working in banks"
*also your conversation skills are that bad i so know that you are some topper in your batch and now you want to tell people how cool bangaloreans are who make random conversations with you*>>>i so wanted to add on and tell him this. :p but then the look on his face before i could add on was just worth it
. My blessed phone saved me when it lit up with a call. That buggers bus stop arrived i was in the mood to make him miss his stop and have him suffer but that would mean enduring him for another journey. Told him his stop was here and got busy chatting on the phone. I saw him turn back. Damn i wish i could capture that moment. That *am such an idiot look* he had on his face .
Saturday indeed was strange interesting conversations with interesting people and also some boring random people. Thats what my day's highlight was about. The beginning The pivot The end. In my case like a rotten end.
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
One whine filled post.
Why i dont want next week to happen? Quite a few guessing around happening about my whines about next week.
1. You getting MARRIED? (love this reason)
2. You got some project. (so why should i dread?)
3. You running away with your bf. (like huh? He would run away FROM ME :p)
4. You stole a million dollars. (sadly i got no time for grand plans :p)
5. Your parents are coming. ( how i wish that was true.i would never dread sigh )
Funny guess work indeed. Well let me break the bubble. Its my birthday next week. So why the dread you ask. Wait no its not because i am going old. I would love going old. Love having wrinkles or grey hair it would give me a reason to celebrate.
I dont want to be here away from all my bumchums, my loved ones and most importantly from the two. Al and Carrie. This is the thing we three best friends have the birthday on the same day. Every year its a big thing for the whole gang of us. Everyone looks forward to Al, carrie and Nessi.'s birthday. And its celebrated in much gusto. A whole day at the beach or going out for a long lunch or just spending the whole day riding around the city in our activas. The all girl gang fun.
I miss all that. I miss being with people who i know care even though they find me crazy. My super star who made my last birthday memorable too. I miss him.
I miss my family who saw to it that each year i turned old they would make it special. Mom cooking all my treats and waking me up in the middle of the night and keeping me awake to receive my calls. Oh yeah i sleep on my birthday. I cant stay awake after 12.30am. So friends who know that, squeeze all their calls in that time frame. "wait put nessi on conference she will sleep off otherwise"
So why will this birthday be different? The reason is that the people i always make memories with are all back home. Yeah al is in mlore and carrie in manipal and me here so for both of us its not really going to be a party together. And also considering the rest of us are also flung out across the country and the world. When i whined about with mom she just told me one think. "This year make memories with new people. You still got pinty and drawer." i know i still got some friends here. But i was so used to the old memories am dreading of making new ones.
The other dread is the fact that i dont have anything to celebrate about. Every year i think what have i done to celebrate this birthday and i always had a commemorable moment. This year i have none. Zilch. Nothing at all. No point celebrating it right. So in case you plan on wishing me please bear with my whinings and as my good friend Yulia said "Oh great the whiner is here." Cant really help it. I am growing old and i have done nothing with these 22yrs. *A big depressing sigh*
1. You getting MARRIED? (love this reason)
2. You got some project. (so why should i dread?)
3. You running away with your bf. (like huh? He would run away FROM ME :p)
4. You stole a million dollars. (sadly i got no time for grand plans :p)
5. Your parents are coming. ( how i wish that was true.i would never dread sigh )
Funny guess work indeed. Well let me break the bubble. Its my birthday next week. So why the dread you ask. Wait no its not because i am going old. I would love going old. Love having wrinkles or grey hair it would give me a reason to celebrate.
I dont want to be here away from all my bumchums, my loved ones and most importantly from the two. Al and Carrie. This is the thing we three best friends have the birthday on the same day. Every year its a big thing for the whole gang of us. Everyone looks forward to Al, carrie and Nessi.'s birthday. And its celebrated in much gusto. A whole day at the beach or going out for a long lunch or just spending the whole day riding around the city in our activas. The all girl gang fun.
I miss all that. I miss being with people who i know care even though they find me crazy. My super star who made my last birthday memorable too. I miss him.
I miss my family who saw to it that each year i turned old they would make it special. Mom cooking all my treats and waking me up in the middle of the night and keeping me awake to receive my calls. Oh yeah i sleep on my birthday. I cant stay awake after 12.30am. So friends who know that, squeeze all their calls in that time frame. "wait put nessi on conference she will sleep off otherwise"
So why will this birthday be different? The reason is that the people i always make memories with are all back home. Yeah al is in mlore and carrie in manipal and me here so for both of us its not really going to be a party together. And also considering the rest of us are also flung out across the country and the world. When i whined about with mom she just told me one think. "This year make memories with new people. You still got pinty and drawer." i know i still got some friends here. But i was so used to the old memories am dreading of making new ones.
The other dread is the fact that i dont have anything to celebrate about. Every year i think what have i done to celebrate this birthday and i always had a commemorable moment. This year i have none. Zilch. Nothing at all. No point celebrating it right. So in case you plan on wishing me please bear with my whinings and as my good friend Yulia said "Oh great the whiner is here." Cant really help it. I am growing old and i have done nothing with these 22yrs. *A big depressing sigh*
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Where does the fault lie?
Prewarning : this post is written in extreme anger. Some words and references may seem offensive but i dont really care. If you want to read. Go ahead. If you want to answer my questions please do. If you plan on getting judgemental and sling shit on me, the comments column is right below. Feel free.
Situation 1.
A 7 year old girl just done with her dance classes and is waiting outside her school for her parents to pick her up. Usually she stays inside but today she decided to stand at the gate and save the trouble for her parents to walk all the way inside the campus. It was a saturday afternoon and the road was deserted. She was waiting around playing with her pretty pink teddy bear. She looks up to see a man standing next to her. The little innocence in her failed to see what the man was upto. He was playing with her pigtails and asking her name and asked if she wanted chocolates. When she said No. He offered to show her something and promised to let her touch it. All she said to him was "uncle i dont talk to strangers and please cover your shame shame". Right at the moment she saw her parents at a distance and walked towards them unaware of what ever that just happened. It was only when she reached home and her mom asked her about the man did she realise that he was the bogey man that her mom told her to strictly avoid. And also the reason why she should stay in a safe place with adults around. She did not realise the gravity of what had happened to her. But since then she lived with the fear of bogey man who she thought never existed. The bogey man because of whom she could not go out to play alone.
Situation 2:
A 16 year old girl all excited to go to her grandma's place for vacation. And this was the first time her mom was letting her go alone. That meant travelling a 4 hour bus drive alone. Super excited she was standing at the bus stop waiting for the second bus. It was getting a bit late she realised. And she looked around to see a lot of passengers waiting. She hoped to get a seat but it looked highly unlikely, as the people at the bus stop looked like they were waiting for the same bus. She looked around staring at each passenger just to search for a familiar face. A creepy man was staring at her. She ignored him thinking maybe he was just reading the bill board behind her. Finally she heard the bus honk from a distance. She gathered her bags and stood ready. There was a huge rush of people trying to get into the bus. She held her bags close to her and tried to get in. She was only nudged between the crowd of people. Just when she found the foot hold of the bus and tried to step in, she felt an unmistakable hand on her chest. That creeped her and stunned her she stepped in, looked back and ignored it, maybe its just the crowd. As luck would have it, she did not get a seat. She had to stand in between a sea of people. The bus moved along taking along the sardine packed passengers. That very instance she felt someone holding her at the wrong place. She looked back, kicked her shoes really hard on the guy. Punched him too. And yelled a screeching scream. The bus stopped. The conductor came to her and asked her what the problem was? She was just perplexed and confused the guy was trying to run away. She pointed out to him and told them "he touched me." but before anyone could do anything that creepy man had disappeared. And the girl was given stares as though it was her fault. Like her clothes were the problem. Like the fact that she was the girl was a problem. They even told her to relax. Such things happen at crowded places. Too shocked by the reaction of the on lookers she reached home crying. And when her relatives asked her what happened. They threw a spat to never let her go alone anywhere.
Situation 3.
A 21 year old girl attended her first night out. A college party. She promised her mom she ll be home before 9. Considering that the city she lived was shut by 8 and bus services run only till ten, she made it a point to leave the party by 9. Still elated and high by the good time she had with her friends she got into her bus wrapped comfortably in her jacket she was all smiles. She got down at her stop and walked towards home. It was pitch dark and the lane looked deserted except for a few vehicles zooming by. A man came walking by her and touched her. Before she could turn back he walked away swiftly . She screamt a loud curse and that coward just ran like the wind. She traced her steps towards home and told her mom what had happened. The only reaction she got from her mom was a long lecture about going out for night outs and parties and walking the lonely road at night.
All these three situations could be Me or anyone for that matter. Everyone must have gone through such horrifying experiences. But then here comes the part that actually tears you apart. The stunned, helpless feeling that you did not do anything to stop it. The anger inside you that wants you to kill that person. You promise yourself next time you ll be careful. You ll hit back. But when next time happens its the same vicious cycle. You are stunned shocked and taken aback.
To everyone out there who has heard this happen to a friend or someone, am sure you gave this advice to them "You should have wacked the hell out of that creep". Trust me! not a good advice. Its not easy to fish out that pepper spray or stun gun right in time and disable the creepy men. First you are just stunned and taken aback. Next you feel numb and motionless. Your vocal chords give up on you. Your reflexes lose it too.
Do not ever scold them by telling them "You should never walk that lane alone". First things first sometimes even the lane well lit and with whole lot of people around incidents like this do happen.
"oh good atleast you are safe and you were not raped" thats the last thing a victim wants to hear. Yeah she may feel good that she is on the safer side but that can just give that person nightmares and trauma.
"Dress well next time". Like seriously? you think a 7 year kid wearing a frock is provocative. Its the not the clothes or the attitude. Its those perverted sense of brains that these creeps have. And its not initiated by clothes or the place or the time.
So someone please answer me. What pleasure do these uncouth men get by touching women and pouncing on them. And is it a woman's fault that she walked that lane alone, or she did not get a bus that was empty, or she preferred to wait at a bus stop than take an auto late at night?
Is this why we celebrate International Men's Day? That men are experts at getting creepy and scaring women?
Situation 1.
A 7 year old girl just done with her dance classes and is waiting outside her school for her parents to pick her up. Usually she stays inside but today she decided to stand at the gate and save the trouble for her parents to walk all the way inside the campus. It was a saturday afternoon and the road was deserted. She was waiting around playing with her pretty pink teddy bear. She looks up to see a man standing next to her. The little innocence in her failed to see what the man was upto. He was playing with her pigtails and asking her name and asked if she wanted chocolates. When she said No. He offered to show her something and promised to let her touch it. All she said to him was "uncle i dont talk to strangers and please cover your shame shame". Right at the moment she saw her parents at a distance and walked towards them unaware of what ever that just happened. It was only when she reached home and her mom asked her about the man did she realise that he was the bogey man that her mom told her to strictly avoid. And also the reason why she should stay in a safe place with adults around. She did not realise the gravity of what had happened to her. But since then she lived with the fear of bogey man who she thought never existed. The bogey man because of whom she could not go out to play alone.
Situation 2:
A 16 year old girl all excited to go to her grandma's place for vacation. And this was the first time her mom was letting her go alone. That meant travelling a 4 hour bus drive alone. Super excited she was standing at the bus stop waiting for the second bus. It was getting a bit late she realised. And she looked around to see a lot of passengers waiting. She hoped to get a seat but it looked highly unlikely, as the people at the bus stop looked like they were waiting for the same bus. She looked around staring at each passenger just to search for a familiar face. A creepy man was staring at her. She ignored him thinking maybe he was just reading the bill board behind her. Finally she heard the bus honk from a distance. She gathered her bags and stood ready. There was a huge rush of people trying to get into the bus. She held her bags close to her and tried to get in. She was only nudged between the crowd of people. Just when she found the foot hold of the bus and tried to step in, she felt an unmistakable hand on her chest. That creeped her and stunned her she stepped in, looked back and ignored it, maybe its just the crowd. As luck would have it, she did not get a seat. She had to stand in between a sea of people. The bus moved along taking along the sardine packed passengers. That very instance she felt someone holding her at the wrong place. She looked back, kicked her shoes really hard on the guy. Punched him too. And yelled a screeching scream. The bus stopped. The conductor came to her and asked her what the problem was? She was just perplexed and confused the guy was trying to run away. She pointed out to him and told them "he touched me." but before anyone could do anything that creepy man had disappeared. And the girl was given stares as though it was her fault. Like her clothes were the problem. Like the fact that she was the girl was a problem. They even told her to relax. Such things happen at crowded places. Too shocked by the reaction of the on lookers she reached home crying. And when her relatives asked her what happened. They threw a spat to never let her go alone anywhere.
Situation 3.
A 21 year old girl attended her first night out. A college party. She promised her mom she ll be home before 9. Considering that the city she lived was shut by 8 and bus services run only till ten, she made it a point to leave the party by 9. Still elated and high by the good time she had with her friends she got into her bus wrapped comfortably in her jacket she was all smiles. She got down at her stop and walked towards home. It was pitch dark and the lane looked deserted except for a few vehicles zooming by. A man came walking by her and touched her. Before she could turn back he walked away swiftly . She screamt a loud curse and that coward just ran like the wind. She traced her steps towards home and told her mom what had happened. The only reaction she got from her mom was a long lecture about going out for night outs and parties and walking the lonely road at night.
All these three situations could be Me or anyone for that matter. Everyone must have gone through such horrifying experiences. But then here comes the part that actually tears you apart. The stunned, helpless feeling that you did not do anything to stop it. The anger inside you that wants you to kill that person. You promise yourself next time you ll be careful. You ll hit back. But when next time happens its the same vicious cycle. You are stunned shocked and taken aback.
To everyone out there who has heard this happen to a friend or someone, am sure you gave this advice to them "You should have wacked the hell out of that creep". Trust me! not a good advice. Its not easy to fish out that pepper spray or stun gun right in time and disable the creepy men. First you are just stunned and taken aback. Next you feel numb and motionless. Your vocal chords give up on you. Your reflexes lose it too.
Do not ever scold them by telling them "You should never walk that lane alone". First things first sometimes even the lane well lit and with whole lot of people around incidents like this do happen.
"oh good atleast you are safe and you were not raped" thats the last thing a victim wants to hear. Yeah she may feel good that she is on the safer side but that can just give that person nightmares and trauma.
"Dress well next time". Like seriously? you think a 7 year kid wearing a frock is provocative. Its the not the clothes or the attitude. Its those perverted sense of brains that these creeps have. And its not initiated by clothes or the place or the time.
So someone please answer me. What pleasure do these uncouth men get by touching women and pouncing on them. And is it a woman's fault that she walked that lane alone, or she did not get a bus that was empty, or she preferred to wait at a bus stop than take an auto late at night?
Is this why we celebrate International Men's Day? That men are experts at getting creepy and scaring women?
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