The right to self-expression

Recently, someone I happen to know posted the news story of a 5 yr old girl’s rape in Delhi, India. His post conveyed the anger he felt with expletives; words that made me wince and detracted me from the news story itself. I, in my good faith and naivety messaged him saying that shouting obscenities on a Facebook status message is about as helpful as doing nothing. Why bother? Besides, if u really want to create awareness, make ur words mean something! Else just, leave it at that – spread the word. That’s enough.

I understand his helplessness, his anger, his frustration. We ambitious young people want corporate jobs with big salaries. But we often find ourselves at odds with our own expectations. Our helplessness comes from prioritizing our own needs. At the end of the day, we feel like there’s nothing we can do “because I’m too young and I need to concentrate on my own career” or “because I have so much else on my mind”
But we’re quick to anger. Cos that’s easy! Just update ur Facebook/twitter feed shouting obscenities at perpetrators, curse them and we feel better! Like my friend said, “I need to vent for my own sanity”

During my interaction with him, he also said something that made me furrow my brows and think hard before I opened my mouth again, or in this case.. typed another admonishing message to him!

He said that while he was fully aware that his anger and facebook status achieved nothing, it helped him vent and finally, it was HIS page and that he had the right to self-expression.

I took a pause and realized that while what I was trying to say was now besides the point, his right to self-expression had encroached my privacy.
That’s when I thought to myself, is that what social media allows us? The right to be obnoxious without reprimand to anyone and everyone present on a social media platform like twitter/Facebook?

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The newness of everything should have been engaging. But it isn’t so.
Yes it snowed throughout the first 2 months. At first, I loved it. 
For the first time I was experiencing a prolonged period of boredom.
I started watching stuff. It didn’t bore me. 
I watched people running to get somewhere.
I watched the snow slowly swaying in the air till it melted on a black jacket.
I watched white fluff enveloping everything like someone pushed down on a giant can of white frosting.
I ate different kinds of food, relishing some, disliking others.
I watched my weight remain a constant which did draw out an emotion from me – Anger.
I craved for the sun. The novelty of snowy, wet days made me ache for warmth.
I watched into windows and then into walls.
I stared into space.
I fell silent.
The chores at home feel burdensome. Eating feels like a task; “too much effort” a voice mumbles inside my head. Let alone dishes and laundry.
Gadgets, books, pencils, charcoal – nothing seems to change it.
Its disturbing. To watch yourself do nothing. To feel yourself feeling nothing.
My body refuses to move. I could lie in bed and not wake up. 
Maybe I’d feel nothing, just the same as when I’m awake.
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Monday Morning Blues…

So you walk into office expecting a whole lot of work piled onto your table. You walk in assuming that of all days, you will get late today!

What you don’t expect is to reach much before your record time in!
What you don’t expect even more is for the AC to not work in the sweltering heat of Bombay summer!
What you don’t expect more than anything is for the windows to be open (as a compensation for the non-functional AC) and make all the paperwork fly off your desk and all over the place.
What you don’t expect at all is your friend calling you up and telling you about his week long break from work and how he spent it!

Conversation between AM & me

(post disconnection from gtalk)

AM: (over sms) call up naa.. my net’s down!
me: (over phone) haan.. wats up!
AM: how was the party last week..
me: oh, it was nice! some ppl cudn’t make it!
AM: why are you so bla?
me: The AC in the office is not working.. for the last 3 days!
AM: Fuck! must be hot!
me: You think!!!
AM: oh.. and ur on the last floor naa.. terrace wala!
me: (grumbling..) YES!
me: so how did u spend ur week off? Read something?
AM: No! hardly!
me: what did you do?
AM: Not much.. watched TV, saw 3 and a half episodes of ‘How I met your mother’
me: Go die! Shameless.. you were supposed to read! u had ‘goals’ remember?
AM: I didn’t take a bath on Saturday, Sunday!
me: huh? YUCK! It is so hot!!! What’s wrong with you?
AM: I’ve just realised.. I’m very lazy man! i didn’t feel like taking a bath Sat/Sun.. so i didn’t!
me: ‘unspellable involuntary sounds expressing disgust’
AM: I didn’t call anyone! I didn’t feel like talking to anyone! I was so lazy, I didn’t move from bed all day! Just watched those episodes.. read a little.. and got wasted sleeping!
me: I’m going to blog this!
AM: Bitch! don’t do that!
me: Call you back in 5!


The difference between 10 to 6 corporate slaves like myself and arty tarty moody creative freaks!

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Too close for comfort!

Bombay is bursting at its seams!
How many times have we heard this and since how many aeons?

Now women, pay close to attention to this post!
This is dedicated to all those who toil through their day and travel in Mumbai’s fastest travel network . The railways! (I’m not as sympathetic to men who do the same… you’ll know why after u finish reading this post)

I hardly venture out to the town side of Bombay. I’m a suburbs person.. and suburbs for me stretch from Andheri to Bandra. everything on either side is FAR! (Don’t anyone of you call me lazy. I hate traffic and noise and pollution. I get migraines OKAY! Besides, it was easier and fun to travel in a car with the windows shut and me at the wheel maneuvering, so much more in control of the situation! So what if it was a run-down Maruti 800! I felt safer in it)

So here I was today, dressed all formally, decked formally rather for a meeting that I had at Mumbai Central. The ride was comfortable enough while I got there. The meeting went wonderfully well. And as I looked at watch, I was happy that it wasn’t rush hour yet. 5 o’clock. I had a return ticket so no worries of getting delayed at the Ticket Counter.

I rushed and crossed the overhead bridge. (Oooh, I have to tell you this too.. when I was on the bridge, this one guy looked up from a train below and winked.. I was far away, he couldn’t do me no harm.. So I was delighted to be able to show him the right gesture with the use of hand.. err.. fingers..) Got to the platform and took a not so crowded train back home. I was happy there was enough place to stand and breathe comfortably and even read my book.

And then came Dadar! My new-found hatred for small, crowded spaces was beginning to show up when a woman came close enough for me to smell the garlic from the dal tadka she’d probably eaten during lunch. God forbid if flatulence made its loud, smelly entry into the atmosphere right about now! I’d die with suffocation! I grew terribly uncomfortable and prayed with every passing minute that no more foul smelling women should come in but the rush just wouldn’t stop. I wonder why people still say Bombay is bursting at its seams… You morons! It has BURST…. ages ago!!!

Now you’ll know why I restrict my traveling beyond a diameter of… okay, not a diameter! a vertical distance of 3 to 5 kms in the city starting Andheri (I’m including Oshiwara, Inorbit Mall and 7 Bunglows.. they’re nice places)

Next stop, we have more women jumping in! As if this is the last train going to Borivli. Now, I msut say this here.. women sweat a LOT! men sweat too… but women sweat a lot.. please carry a deo women.. GROSS! Everywhere I turned I curled my nose to a new but equally horrid smell. plus all the oil (euw euw euwww…) Champa, chameli have a great fragrance in FLOWERS; NOT on the head.. and especially not in bucketfuls that cover everyone around them yuck… besides, I’m somehow always disadvantaged in train rides considering I’m always taller than most women (I wear heels on the top of my 5’6″ height) so I have to unfortunately subject my olfactory glands to the torture of women’s odd smelling hair and their gross, sweaty arm-pits that somehow always land straight in front of my face!

Another thing that I hate about train travel is women going ‘pcha’ ‘tch’ and such sounds clicking away their tongues at every instance another person’s body touches theirs.. If you don’t like it, shut up and bear it.. (or write a blog about it later) its not not like people like and want to touch you! (maybe some.. but not most!) but you know, I don’t understand one thing.. (Please note, that women come in all shapes and sizes… and there’s a healthy variety amongst them. Men do too.. but the fat and stout ones are thankfully rare) yea.. so like I was saying.. (brace yourself, this is ugly!) I don’t understand this one thing.. how is it that women who travel daily in trains are not conscious about their bodies? I don’t understand how one woman can let her boobs bump into another woman’s back? EUWWWWW!
You’re offended when a man stares at them for a flash of a second even.. and yet, you leave them around to float into the space available and gross out another way too conscious stranger woman? *blrhpd* (that was an involuntary noise that I make when I’m disgusted.. Imagine me writhing and shaking my head, curling up my nose and contorting my mouth.. get the picture?.. good! that was it!)

I think I was thoroughly disgusted by this train ride. I landed home to realize I was reeking of 4 different kinds of smells.. nariyal tael (favorite amongst most people, gross to me and others of normal orientation), baby saliva (don’t make that face! I was the one next to the smelly toddler), sweat (I don’t sweat, never so gross! so it had to be someone else’s!) and kadhva tael (Gawd.. sticky and too strong! curse that fisherwoman bai!)

How I hate women who don’t tie their hair up while traveling! Imagine trying to struggle and writhe in a space so small that its difficult to even breathe! and then imagine this one light irritating tingle on ur arm or your hand; stupid OAFS! Why can’t they fuckin tie their hair UP, AWAY? And then when that plait gets caught in some stifling crevice, they yell around.. the damned dupatta does the same thing.. damn it.. why am I cribbing.. people’s skins do the same thing.. I don’t know how others can take it!

OOOOORRRR… maybe I’m just obsessive compulsive with paranoia to top it!

If you come out of the train smelling of 4 different people, its time to say it ISN’T okay! If it takes you an hour to travel a distance of 3 kms by road, its time to say it ISN’T okay! If people are willing to lose their lives for one foot of space in a local train, its time to say it ISN’T okay!

Unfortunately, we all behave like it still is! Until then, goodluck trying to fight with garlic mouth, fart head and champa-chameli!

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Been so long…

September was when I last saw this page; blogging got replaced with lots of new things. Priorities changed. People changed. Passions changed. Philosophies changed. I filled pages after pages in my diary craving to blog here again.

Etched in ink, inspirations drowned in the pages of my life. I remained patient as a new page revealed itself to me each day. New beginnings & new endings. Evolution is after all the basis of my ideology. It is my most fundamental belief.
Rejecting it would be the same as denying my existence. The only way to do this was to adapt; to change. Problems seem to take care of themselves when you loosen up, let go and be with the flow. What have you got to lose especially when you have no other options!

I went through a million transitions. WHY? Let me start at the very beginning then.
I learnt the following during those months.

Discalimer: The following are subject to change as and when new learnings are imbibed. As of today, this is my stand.

1) Dads who cant dance can look adorable when they finally do.

2) Marriage is not as bad as it is made out to be.

3) Planning your own wedding is not romantic PERIOD!

4) Love is indeed a glorified name for having someone who obligatorily fulfills your needs

5) MBAs make a fuckload of money as compared to us lesser mortals. And this is not just those IIMs or whatever other bigshot institutes there could be.

6) I suffer from Dyscalculia. My math SUCKS !!!!!!!!!

7) Handwriting Analysis still makes me money

8) 7 hours of sleep doesn’t sound healthy but it is!

9) Breakfast is a great habit

10) Making lunch at 7 am isn’t only a wife’s work! 😛

11) Hard work pays

12) Time really does heal

13) I AM married ( Yes, I still freak out at the thought of it !!!)

And on that lucky note, I’ll sign off!


PS: I know its been a long time since I blogged but I promise I’m going to try and do some new stuff and post as regularly and as frequently as possible.

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The world’s still spinnin’ aroun’!

Blowing circles of smoke through my lips, seeing blurry visions of a rain-soaked cloud passing by… I watch the road in silence. Sitting next to my sweetheart, feeling the slight kick of the slowly overtaking intoxication… I enjoy the company of the shared silence between us.

Exchanging fully understood smiles, not feeling the need to speak, not wanting to interfere in the beauty of the moment… I remember all of this as my head touches my pillow this night.

I’m tired after a long, demanding day. And yet I smile as I lay my head to sleep.
I have pain in my lower back. And yet I wait for tomorrow morning to wake up so as to see the day transform into the evening sky.
I have so much more work pending for tomorrow. And yet I’m waiting for evening to come.. to be held in strong arms again.

Its 2:50 am. I’m sleepy. But I want to stay up just so I can go back and enjoy stolen moments of intimacy.. imagine them.. relive them..

Love is a wonderful feeling..

While it lasts, it makes the world spin!
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