American Son - A Netflix Movie

I just watched the movie American Son yesterday and was impressed with the simplicity and the execution.

It deals with racism in today's USA and how the human factor complicates it in every side of the issue.

One word of caution though: It is a pure drama almost a stage play made into a movie.

Edit: Oh I just googled for a link to add to the blog when I mention the name above and I was right with my guess or naive depending on how you see it - it was a Broadway play adapted into a movie so yes a "stage play"!

It is the likes of Man from Earth in the respect that it is simply about listening to the conversation occurring between the main characters.  I still believe Man from Earth is a better movie of course but it is a completely different subject matter and this one has all its weight in the content and discussion more than the storytelling.  So I guess in that case it is apples to oranges so not fair.

Definitely worth watching is all I want to say.  And well done to the people involved in making this movie.

Umbrella-Glasses

When people are busy trying not to slip or fall...
Trying to weave through the crowds without getting drenched

Jostling and juggling smoke, crowds and time-crunch
Getting to that ever present work and schedule

Unbeknownst to them there is another dance above their heads...
No... not the cosmic one... not that...

Umbrellas clinking Cheers to one another...
To a good drink of rain...
(Much to the irritation of the holders who do not share in the joy)
Bidding goodbye to a hardly-there summer and sunshine...and
Officially marking the end of it anyway...

Drinking to an early beginning of that blend of rain, cold,wind and unexpected cool sunshine...
Earlier sunsets and hard-to-wake-up-at early mornings...

Yes, Raise your umbrella-glasses folks...
To a wonderful next 6 months...

*A sullen welcome to last Autumn, funny that I publish this only when the next is almost upon us. 

Truths about life as a Gen-Y

Disclaimer:  All opinions expressed here are my own.  You are not obliged to agree with any of these.  Do not post hateful comments either.

Thanks to Aruna Narayanan for making me feel good by clarifying that we were Gen Y and not Gen X.

The most overrated in life as a Gen Y

30 years of age ---

30 is not a deadline (not any other age for that matter).

With my vicious 30 in the vicinity, I too am confronting the great fear.

Nope! 

Your metabolism, physiology and all other things that keep you in 'Young & Growing' probably changed a decade ago so don't even bother!

Wear it with pride, after all age is just a number...No!?

Sex ---

It is not as big a deal as one is led to believe.

Legal Adults - Check

Consensual - Check (also involves not being intoxicated while making the decision).

Protection - Check

Then it’s good to go.

Even to write this I am right now overcoming a mental battle against it but I know this what I have said is correct.
       

Unique ---

"Everyone is uniform in their aspiration to be unique and the fact they already are unique as with the rules of a multidimensional universe".
                                             ---Ujwala B Joshi   ;)

Social Media ---

Not being a social media omnipresence does not mean you are a recluse. 

Understand the objectives of being a part of each and pick and choose.  Get over it, move on!

  

Shape and size ---

Honestly!  It doesn't matter because you are Unique ;)

I am not talking about fitness here or health.  

Yes, I did have to think carefully to choose which  of these almost synonyms that I am to undermine the hyoe of, if at all it is.

Fashion ---

It is so subjective (it is a long list so I am leaving it for you to think about what is it subject to or subjective of) that it shouldn't be so uniformly hyped.

Caste and Religion ---

Choose to believe what you may. 

Debating about it is a waste of time.

Proliferation ---

Don't do it unless YOU/YOURS and ONLY YOU/YOURS want to.

IQ/GeekDom ---

Though these are truly two different things, people seem to think of them as synonymous and everyone wants to be one! 

Everyone of us is either truly one - in a subject of our interest - 

and pretending to be one - in common subjects of interest -

while also pretending not to be one when we truly are - if the subject of our choosing is not quite platable to the crowd we are in.

Sexual Orientation --- 

It's always been there, either accepted openly or practiced secretly.   It always will be.  

As long as it is as per Sex above it should be good to go.

The most underrated or valued in life as a Gen Y

Water ---

Conserve Period

Green Earth/Renewable resources ---

Educate yourself if you disagree or die trying.  There is no alternate reality.

Survival Skills ---

Learn to DIY as much as you can. 

Learn to survive.  For WINTER IS COMING…. ;) :P

விட்டில் பூச்சியின் வாழ்க்கை விளங்கியது...!

Vittil poochiyin vazhkai vilangiyathu...

Muzhu nilavu kandu nan kannagatradu mind ra bodu.

Adan vazhkai enadanadu,

Unai kandu nerungiyathilirundu!

Ennai erikkum oliyum enai eerkkum visaiyum neeyagi poivittai... 

The wonders of (Associative) Memory, Emotional Overwhelm and othertricks of mind:

When I was between 8 and 10 years old, I used to speak Telugu fluently. 

I can't string a basic sentence together properly, if you asked me now.

How we are adept at forgetting things more than remembering!!

I grew up with my parents being able to speak 4-6 languages each, none of which I was taught to speak (or read or write for that matter) except for Tamil and English.

But today, if some one talks in those languages I was exposed to as a child, I can follow the meaning of a conversation or at least work out the context of it.

I would feel as if I was invading the privacy of the people conversing.

On the one side I would be eager to know how much I could understand and on the other, I would want to stop listening.

An Associative Memory is when some semblance to an old (archived?) memory brings forth responses/reflexes that you were not aware that you could/knew.

Two of the aspects of this have always fascinated me more than the others, that arising from music and that arising because of scent or odour.

Note how I said Music specifically and not auditory in general. 

Yes, I know... It does makes more sense when there is an order to the sounds as in the case with music and not just noise or abstract sound to evoke a long dormant memory or reflex.

And music being an easy & well known mnemonic (remember all those school rhymes), should only make it easy for my awestruck brain to make sense, every time it sings along a whole song without missing a beat or word, when that from a dusty memory, plays somewhere even I have no memory of actually listening to it ever.

My family was quite into Music when I was a child.  Our pursuits of music in its various forms have reduced and we almost do nothing but listen and may be share playlists these days. (As I'm sure is the case with most of us with "busy" lives making a living...) 

Today I got reminded of Meera Bhajan songs by LataMangeshkar (apparently recorded in the year 1978, I just came to know) that my mom used to listen to a lot.

And the surprise in store was that I could remember every song (and even the little breathing pause she takes in one of the songs which got recorded mistakenly.... :))

Similarly, this past week I was listening to quite a few of the old Indian Music either from Movies or those sung by the greats from their 'singing for Indian Movies' careers.

And some of these songs I still have not seen videos of, hardly ever heard them on radio or cassettes (given these are easily 40-60 years old) but I could remember (if not sing) every little 'nuance and tricky trek on the notes' along and at the exact places.

Always a pleasant surprise when that happens!

But a scent evoking memories is a different story altogether for me... This is something that I can't explain really well. 

The memories it brings back are sharp but still shadowy...

I wish I knew how to tune in to this and figure out the teasing memory... 

I've sometimes stopped in my tracks, trying to really reach out and snatch at the memory when a scent hits me bringing back half a story.

Sometimes it's like a puzzle, dropping a piece at a time, right on my head so it would jolt me (to being awareof it?) but pieces not always of the same puzzle.  

This is one of the most intriguing experiences.  Makes me curious (obviously), aware (of some foggy memory residing in my head), zoned out (from the present trying to remember the past), sad (when not able to completely recall) and all of this at the same time. 

Not to sound like a creep, I am pretty confident that everyone has these experiences especially if one has moved around a lot or has seen a lot of changes in life.  Some are just more aware of it, some less.

Who knows, may be I am just connecting to my 'present' on a parallel universe... ;)

Now not just memories but there's another activity of the ever busy neurons that intrigue me...

When I feel emotionally overwhelmed while I watch an extraordinary performance of any kind.

Idol and Talent shows are my best and worst entertainment in this sense.

I absolutely don't mind this in the confines of my own house and that of my loved ones, definitely a nuisance when I am out and about.

The best way to become the butt of jokes when among friends... Huff!!!

Well, memories and emotions are/were always my favourite topic of discussion even if it was only in my own head.

May be they are overrated like people say but I am sure I will always stay fascinated by them!!

Morning Potty Philosophies

Morning Potty has always been a time for thought... I have always found them to be my most creative and imaginative thought process time... It's almost as if you are asleep and dreaming solutions to your everyday problems or searching for an inner meaning to even the smallest of things in life that you wud usually ignore...

Right from my childhood days of indian commode habits I remember using this time to experiment with my various muscles and joints, in my legs, trying to see how long they hold still, when exactly do they start hurting, how much water I am using and how efficiently can I use the water while I also keep a constant flow to keep the commode from drying up...

Recently facebook, whatsapp and ebook readers (and some games too yes) have stolen this precious time from my brain exercise schedule I realise...sadly... 

Potty in this era of smartphones, has changed from being 'an extremely private and intimate time spent by a person completely inside their head and body, pushing out creative thoughts and 'not so creative' (some may disagree) body excrements' to a time when we connect with family and friends... 

It is not even funny anymore and in many cases true even, if you were to imagine your friend on their respective bathrooms and replying to your messages and watching the videos you shared...which is sad... Not just because it's not funny...

That said, try as I may, my hand automatically picks up my smartphone the minute I feel my bladder full or my rectum signal...

Times when I realize my battery is dead but I need to potty are almost emergencies where I borrow Suresh's phone shamefacedly (for the fact that I forgot to charge it).

From a girl who never opened her mouth to respond to any questions/conversations or provocations from outside the door while at potty to one who utilises her time on the potty connecting with people vie e-media is quite a (still quiet) transformation that I believe many women of my age and era wud agree...

And in fact this blog and the thoughts for it started this morning while at potty... 

Now what prompted me to write was a little insect I killed because I couldn't watch it buzzing around me... All I had to do was pour a few drops of water over it and it fell down twitching.  Then I couldn't watch it die nor accept that I did something that bad that I was torn between letting it go and ending its suffering (yes mahatma's words - or so I have been told - echoed in my mind) and I poured more water on it swearing (for the thousandth time in my life) that I wud never do that again...

So I was going to post on FB at once of my 

Morning Potty realisation #10000 or something...

One who controls the urge to kill an insect just because it's buzzing around or in sight is a person of supreme self control! 

One who does not feel the need in the first place to kill an insect just because it's buzzing around or in sight is a saint!

One who tries to get the insect out or find a way to let it out without harming it is a supreme being!

This does not include non veg food. I am talking about killing insects just because you see them or because they are flying around (and again you see them)...

(Based on the famous padayappa lyrics of the song 'vetrikkodikattu')

(Lines of the song)

இன்னொர் உயிரைக் கொன்று புசிப்பது மிருகமடா!

இன்னொர் உயிரைக் கொன்று ரசிப்பது அரக்கனடா!

யாருக்கும் தீங்கின்றி வாழ்பவன் மனிதன்...

ஊருக்கே வாழ்ந்து உயர்பவன் புனிதன்!!

(Lines of the song transliterated)

Innor uyiraikkondru pusippadu mirugamada!

Innor uyiraikkondru rasippadu arakkanada!!

Yaarukkum theengindri vaazhbavan manidan!

Oorukkae vaazhnthuyarbavan punidan!!

(Lines of the song translated)

Who kills another life (form) to eat is an animal!

Who kills another life (form) and enjoys is a demon!

Who lives without harming another life (form) is a human...

Who lives for (the good of) other life (forms) is divine!

But then it also occurred to me that even this has an exception.  Two... No some exceptions... Or may be I am just not a person of supreme self control.

And in my mind the exceptions are:

Mosquitos 

Cockroaches

Rats/Some viscious spiders and poisonous insects where it's either that dead, or you!!

Definitely in that order...

Definitely won't add lizards to the list...they are NOT harmful usually...

Thankfully though, for now I don't suffer the exceptions... But I know this is a global problem... Like poverty and illiteracy... 

So there goes my Morning Potty Realisation for the day number #ohsomanythatidontkeeptrack

The first reaction to NZ

A quiet seclusion.  A writer's paradise. A wintry sun but bird songs and cold hands. 

Houses undecided of the past or of future?! with their red roofs, large glass windows and spacious lawns but erected on and built in with modern household.

A long walk unto the beautiful skyline but on perfect roads and with whizzing cars.

Modern do I call this, or old, a glimpse into the future may be even...hopefully?!

Posting an old draft #unknown

The simple things that I've lost to:

Digital age? 

Cognizance of depleting natural resources?

Internetization of the world? 

Smart phonization of my life?

I don't know exactly which but they have compounded to the effect of, my losing touch with the tiny, simple pleasures...or even the desire for them.

For instance...

doodling on a piece of paper (/eraser/wall/water/back of a friend - any flat surface really)

This is such a lost art to me.  This simple silly thing that usually gets us a dose of 'scolding' from a teacher/parent/even an annoyed friend in the last case... Do kids do this at school after they have been introduced to the horrors of wasting paper and/or (the horror of) addictive, immersive smartphones?

I don't know... Well you do have apps to doodle with... But eh, isn't that the point?

Reading books let alone reading books while waiting for things...

Even though I try to go back to reading books (have successfully managed to read a few) I know I don't read as many or as immersed as I used to...

My attention span has reduced clearly and my smartphone does a good job of keeping me even from starting to read. If I've got just a few mins somewhere I know carrying a smartphone is much lighter and doing something with (even reading on it) is quicker and easier to leave when I have to than if I started with a book. I know I can't just read a page and stop if I have to (and it's relatively bulky)!!  Or atleast this is how the smartphone pro part of my brain argues (and mostly wins) over the meek and shy book loving part of my brain. :(

I salute the people who still manage to read a whole lot inspite of being gadget rock stars too of which I am certainly neither... 

Punishment

I wanted the punishment.  I was upset about the punishment and wondered what it wud be like going through it but I was even more upset about having lost the precious little thing.  And it was not the first time I had lost similarly nor the punishment period.  Which invigorated me even more.  This time it has to be the final time.  So the punishment had to be equally severe and long so I will remember it enough to not lose again.

He was even more sad.  That I was punishing myself and he needs to just stand by and watch or even assist in the punishment by not letting me out of it.  I had begged and cried that he wud just stand by mute and watching while I go through it.

He was restless.  Every once in a while he wud try to bring up the conversation about 'enough' and try to slip me a relief. Sometimes he wud tempt me with one and test me.  After almost relishing the relief I wud quietly slip back into my resolve and go back to what I felt I needed.  May be for just some more time I wud tell myself when I really get tempted by his offers.

Then the day and the opportunity came... He had had enough.  He wanted me to shed my celibacy and have some fun.  He knew I liked what I was restraining myself from.  Once I forgot, got carried away with distraction and lost it.  Ok many times... So what life is short.  Yes he was angry too the last time.  After all it was quite something that I had lost.  But how long this state of isolation?

So when he got the replacements, it was surplus and he had a good reason to not carry it around with him now as he used to.  So he preferred the other and forced me to take this.  This time it was easier for him to convince me.  May be I was weak.  May be I had had enough.  May be it looked too beautiful to resist.  And the promise it had even as I gazed at it.

I knew this time I wud be more careful.  May be I wud guard it too much.  

So hesitantly I put on this white and new design of a earphones that he gave me.  Took a deep breath and pressed clicked on play without going to the music app.  I js wanted to feel the rush of whatever it played... After all it was after so long...

Rahman's one of the most simple and beautiful composition played through --- maanooththu mandaiyila maangutti petha maiyile --- it filled me up... as the song filled my heart through my ears!!!

The wonderful voice and almost acting modulation sand emote of SPB brought a smile and I did not care that I was in the bus.

It was worth it! And thank you Suresh for tempting me to take it.  It was worth the sinful way my heart rejoiced in the song!!! 

P.S.  I couldn't help the exaggeration. :P Been long since took to the pen so forgive me... ;)

The little old lady that made me happy!

It's after a long time that I have been moved and overwhelmed in real life, in person; not one of those videos or those blogs or those news articles or those tweets or Facebook uploads...

Today I met an old lady. She cud have been anywhere between 75 and a 100 years old.  She was going about her life with so much acceptance, such innocense (and even a sense of humour I later saw) inspite of all the worldly problems of health, wealth and well, life as such.

She was almost hunch backed, about 3ft tall, had the early spurt of hair growth on her head, that follows a tonsure, a dirty gown on that covered her dutifully from neck to ankle, a dirty cloth bag of her few belongings or may be those that she needed for her business whatever it was. She walked a straight path on the busy main road, her eyes on the ground, not the slightest intention on her (evident from her body language) to even seek physical help, let alone stretch her small puny arms for alms, to the plenty of people walking around her, definitely in a much better state in life.

As I crossed her, I cud barely control the reflex to turn around and look at her properly, not just the outline I caught as I overtook her in pace.  My angel and demon were swiftly engaged in the battle of morality, of dharma and the practicality of my real life.

As I reached the bus stop to take the connecting bus, I (like the child we all are within) told myself that I wud wait and see if she wud head my way and if so I would give her a small sum that wud appease both the angel and the demon or atleast strike a compromise while they found new arguments as to wanting and not wanting the lady to head my way and debating over how useful or laughable the sum I had decided upon to give away was.

I had already extracted the money from the attic of a bag I had and was ready when the angel's wish won. The lady walked right into my way.

As I approached her she broke into such an innocent and infectious smile that I was surprised.  The battles that were waging inside me until that very moment I approached her were quelled, more like the demon was dumbstruck.

As I inserted the currency notes into her ( really small) palm she paused to squint at the notes and then gave it back to me with a half mute vocabulary and said 'kapde' (clothes). She tried showing me something with 5 of her fingers that I initially did not understand.  I told her to keep the money, mustered a warm and guilty smile and walked away.  To my surprise she walked to the bus stop and approached me.  She again tried giving the money back and explaining that she needed clothes making the 5 finger gesture.  Then it stuck me, or atleast the most I cud make out of it - I extracted some more from my purse hastily and gave her a relatively larger sum.  I told her not 'Khana milega' (you'll get food with this) this time but 'kapde milenge' (you'll get cloth with this), with a reltively less guiltier heart and a more satisfied smile.  I rushed towards the bus that approached while I felt all the eyes that were earlier watching us, slowly leave and the woman followed and got into the bus too.

For a second I thought she was following me but realised that she actually was travelling in the same direction.  I was not sure if my heart was happy or my ego unhappy.  I even thought may be I just got fooled and I wanted to walk away, into a corner, not wanting to look at anyone that might recognise me from the curious exchange or especially the lady.  For I was sad to leave her clinging to the support pole while a young fellow gave me the 'ladies seat' that he was occupying until then.

As the driver and conductor started laughing and having a jovial conversation with/about her or probably js couldn't help smiling at the innocent expressions of the sorry little creature to whom they tried demanding the ticket fare while she half mutely joked back giving them imaginary coins from thin her.  I was watching every word uttered with a beating heart, every eye on her that was curious or mocking, made me want to get up and pay the ticket fare.  But the demon had had enough. Angel was making feeble attempts.  As I realised that the diver and conductor were merely having good natured fun and did not expect to get anything from her, I relaxed and let go of the idealist in me that had decided to hail the conductor (as inconspicuously as possible) and pay him her bus fare.

When I saw her alight from the bus on her own accord at her destination, I breathed a sigh of relief
and told myself that she is going to walk 'home' as safely as she had travelled so far.


Then I started marvelling in earnest at the astonishing strength and happiness showed by this frail child of an old lady.

I wished I had given her a hug, that I had taken her home with me, given her good shelter for the night, a square meal of food and the love of a daughter or granddaughter; like the scores of people who are currently doing this for thousands of people across various cities everyday without expecting anything in return.

I wished I had given her the big bar of chocolate in my bag and as I thought this it also crossed me that it cud even have been adverse to her if she had diabetes.  Then the irony stuck me. The irony and cynicism of human nature that doesn't really let us move beyond our limits as a 'practical person'.

Well this was a small portion of just what I cud do.  May be one random day when I cud.
If I were asked to spend all of my earnings in such deeds or even just a significant amount monthly for these people (as those many many noble hearts are doing), I wouldn't be able to.

This was just a lucky day for me, probably a celebration for a dear ones birthday that wud be here in one day.

But this also saddened me, for this was also the dark irony. For I had expected people to have noticed.  This consciousness had embarrassed me causing me to seat myself into a corner.  I had thought about how they wud have perceived me.  May be I am js a pious Muslim doing her duty during the month of ramzan (for I did have a costume similar on) - though a duty no less nobler - but still done because you are supposed to.

I was saddened at these thoughts that had crossed my mind.  I tried to dispel it by thinking how nothing  matters - how people perceived,  whether or not they even noticed.  At the end of the day it made me happy, moved me and made me smile.  Then it was touché, the angel smiled at the demon.
I recalled phoebe and F.R.I.E.N.D.S.  Accepting this innate human pride or whatever that was was more graceful than I had thought. All that mattered was I have done something to help someone and in the process made atleast two people - the lady and myself.

I walked the rest of the way home with a slight spring in  my steps, blessing the little lady's soul.

Hard Love...

Love is a lot of hard work made to look easy... with a smile or a touch or a word or a thought be it real or imagined! 

#DelhiGangRape

This question was haunting me the whole time I was following the news about the Delhi Gangrape Victim's condition but I never really came across an answer untill just now.

Why were her intestines removed? What could have led her to such huge amounts of infection?  I found the first clue when I read the iron rods used in the brutality is suspected to have caused the infection.  

But it did not answer how internal injuries/infection could have been caused by this - may be cuts and scratches came in contact.  Still how the intestines in particular? It did not add up.

And I was not surprised and nor should you be when I say I did not really imagine the answer though when I found it, it was obvious.  Of course!  But also, of course I did not imagine the answer!!! For it was the unthinkable!  Not even my lady-colleague who I called to show the article had imagined the answer.

I am not sure if this is being dumb or naive or what but that is probably how most of us felt - because this is unthinkable!

I found the answer here:

http://health.india.com/diseases-conditions/delhi-rape-case-why-such-brutality/

"Picture this – A 23-year-old girl with dreams of a great future shifts to Delhi from her hometown for further studies. She’s travelling in a bus with a friend when four men assault the duo with an iron rod and proceed to rape the girl with such unspeakable brutality that would make you shudder.

The girl is now in such a ‘critical’ condition that she needs a ventilator to breathe. The men not only raped her repeatedly but also beat her with a blunt object and shoved it into her vagina leading to multiple injuries all over.

Dr B. D. Athani, medical superintendent at the Safdarjung Hospital in Delhi said ‘She has sustained serious abdominal and genital injuries. It seems she was repeatedly hit with a blunt object on her abdomen or an object was shoved into her private parts. She has several injury marks on her body but the injury to the intestines has created a life-threatening condition. The girl has been operated on and large portions of her intestines were removed. She has lost a lot of blood but has regained consciousness."

I don't care about the fact that I am at office and I am welling up but now I fully comprehend the meaning of the description/compliment/admiration - A very brave girl - that is being rained on the victim.  

Even without the knowledge of the "how" the girl's intestines were damaged I already understood when they called her brave.

But this, this is enormous!!! I Salute her and I sincerely hope no one else gets is put in a spot as this which would require them to be so "brave".

And then, when not knowing the whole of the gory details I was already chanting - 'castration and may be even let to bleed to death' ----- not just for these bastards but for that matter any of the species roaming this planet violating from little children to adult women (sometimes even Men).  And now, knowing what I do..... 'death by castration' - fully justified...

Why be kind to the beasts by doing it chemically which is not only painless but also temporary?!

And how naive had I been when I thought I saw shame, guilt, fear, embarrassment in the eyes of a couple of guys who happened to unknowingly stand too close to me in a busy bus stop and I turned - with all that fear and vigilance of a woman on her own at a bus stop "as late as" 8.30 PM - to stare at them and 'shoo them away'.

That was a day after the #DelhiGangRape news-rage and I thought, 'this protest and coverage is probably reaching people'.  

But it is not about this message reaching the already educated and gentle men having enough humility to feel sorry and ashamed for what some of their gender did (are still doing in many parts).

This is about it reaching those who are not in a position to understand what is going and what it could all mean - may be under the influence of drugs - or without education or brought up that would have taught them, women are no lesser than themselves and they are in fact inferior if they thought they could wield "power" by committing any degree of violation of a woman.

Can we really teach them? May be not, may be only fear of the law and consequences would keep them at bay - which at this moment is apparently too frail to lift a finger, too slow to catch the bastards or too blind to see the harsh reality when there is no "sufficient evidence".

But how do we make sure we do not have more and more of this in future?
Catch them young! Reach out to the schools - no not just to the girls in the school to tell them how to be vigilant and safe - but to the boys in various schools from govt institutions to international ones - talk to the young ones and teach them to respect the girls as their equals and not take advantage of the others' (usually) relative frailty.

More importantly let us not make the mistake of even jokingly show our own sons and daughters any partiality/inequality that would be the first seed in their hearts that would grow into the tree of unintended but culturally imbibed/inherited dominance and chauvinism.   

Let us not become the grandmothers/fathers who used to wait to offer the one chocolate left, to the beloved grandson and hide it from the granddaughter sitting right there.

And I was avoiding writing on this for so long because I know this might not really contribute towards the change but the article I mentioned above just broke my restraint. 

I am atleast voicing my opinion and I hope it reaches atleast a couple of people and propagates through the infinite and all pervading social network towards "Action" somewhere, may be even in the smallest of small ways.

I wish I could physically join the protesters at India Gate and was not aware of the protests that happened here in bangalore when it did. And I am sorry I did not.

And it was not too long ago when I was sharing my opinion - India would probably never come together in a grand scale for anything - when I was discussing the situation in Egypt.

Today it has, and I am proud of my fellow countrymen/women making the government stagger back a few steps and pause and think before they spoke a jumble of stupid consolation that they would otherwise throw at all too knowing population - that which knew the list of diplomatic government responses byheart and did not care to see which one was being used at that instance.

I hope that we do not stop at this protest and that we followup untill solid action is taken - in terms of amended bills, safer roads, more equal and educated society; in the reality of seeing these and other such bastards castrated/hung for their unspeakable crimes.

For this and other victims of such brutalities, the survivors and the eternally struggling... Support and salutes, good thoughts and prayers!

P.S: I wrote this last morning and now the victim is even more critical than she was then.  And there has probably more of this inhumane act occured around the world.  

I am not sure this piece is all coherent nor enough to have a title that would make it look nice.  This is just my shame, outrage and anger.

The more I think about the fact that I am unable to do anything about this and am comfortably going on with my routine - with only a conscience to quieten, no doubt with the help of the villainous cynic labelled 'the practical' of the two that live inside my all too accommodating/adjusting Indian mind - the more I am agitated about what has happened to the once hot blooded young feminist fighting in every little chance I used to get for the "little" rights and freedom of women!  Oh of course! I grew up... grew old more like...

What would happen if I (read: a woman with Social Responsibilities) abandoned it all and went in search of enlightenment at 25 (if I get stupid enough to do that?!)...!?

Back in secondary school at KV - Syllabus A, we had a poem called Yashodhara ka Vilaap (forgive any speling mistakes) - about which I remember the feeling expressed than any of the lines.

It was a beautiful poetry about this character called Yashodara who is none othr than Buddha's very own wife queen; about her sorrow that her beloved left her and their only son in search of "enlightenment". 

It was a poem that touched me deeply.  I couldn't find it onilne right now (though I would like that very much), else I would share here.

So just imagine a rich king, abandons his wife and young child, goes off in the search of some peace or knowledge or God, however one may interpret - all vey noble and grea on his part but what about his wife and child. 

In the case of Rama, he abandons his wife (and unborn child(ren) as it turns out), for keeping with the thoughts of his people and upholding so called "King's duties to his people".

Now let us pause and see what is expected of these women or rather what do they end up doing? Worship their beloved husbands; Not giving in to their personal feelings and respecting them still.  And th worst part is - these apparently, not out of any compulsion...

They may be big hearted, but I am not.  I do not think the same would have happened if the roles were reversed...

Thes husbands  respecting their wives, understanding the causes that led them to act like that if they did much less worship them...!? Nien!  I do not know what is root cause - society, chauvenism, inert human nature... Whatever it may be, I do not know nor want to get into those...

Well, am I happy to be in this century of modern household and understanding and Gamma men...?!  Yeah Baby, definitely. :) 

I know even now they would not really apprecate if I left my house/family/"responsibilities" and went in search of "enlightenment" but atleast they are adjusting enough and understanding enough when need arises for an onsite... :)

"Have I stopped living?!" List...

Here is a compilation I made in my bus journey in the morning, thinking about what to blog
- I am sorta pushing myself to blog once a day; trying to get back in touch with my writing side. . .

We will call it the list of "Have I stopped living?" or a "Have I let my heart grow too old?"

Agree or diagree to the below, honestly to yourselves and see if You have stopped living life yet!

-> You start feeling cynical or have a "mature distant eye" analyzing everything, when people speak around; thoughts of you own that you are not jumping to express at the first pause the other person gives in their sentence.

-> You start getting distracted with "how I am in a much more pathetic life than this person" thoughts when someone is sharing their problems OR in a "how I am better off" thoughts when somebody starts talking about how happy they are. Even if you do listen genuinely, still this thought lingers somewhere in a corner of your mind. 
(And this may or may not be the private thoughts mentioned in the previous point).
-> You do not exaggerate anything anymore, especially not for fun.

-> You stop getting visually excited about things/events; you try to keep a cool appearance throughout even when excited. 

-> Everyone you meet is not called a friend anymore, but falls under the category of an aquaintance or some such fancy levels of social circles.

-> You shrink your world to your priorities in work and loved ones.

-> You stop making new friends and struggle to keep in touch with the good old ones, as much as you used to before.

-> Your hobbies are no more that; you do not have time for those anymore.

-> You do not trust yourself too much anymore or have a lot of self doubts about your capabilities even for the smallest of things.

-> You stop appreciating yourself.  Or atleast think it unwise to admit it even if you did appreciate yourself for something.

-> You slowly stop appreciating nature or atleast you think you are too busy to do it. 

-> You still enjoy nature but you think you have other priorities and cannot "waste time" "right now" to appreciate it and keep it aside for later that never comes. 
-> But then if you stop a moment and think about it you know that you are wrong.

-> You stop appreciating your life. 

-> You feel jealous about or atleast Envy others often!

-> You feel lonely often.

-> Some you may agree to and some you may not; some you may even add to this list through your comments.

I won't stay around happiness for long . . .

Don't keep me too happy,
'Coz I won't stay long then. . .

A soul that seeks the pleasures of sadness
that seeks the little points of light that leak in the crevices of darkness
I won't stay long around happiness. . .

Blessed with the curse of gloom and melancholy,
The joy of pity and the grace of sorrow,
The pride of shame and suffering insult -
Keep my sparce soul drugged. . .
So I won't stay long around happiness. . .

Thoughts of bitterness and memories of disgust
Keep me alive and remind me of my existence
N I won't stay long around happiness. . .

So don't try my love, to give me the joy of your heart. . .
Don't try my love, to keep me drunk -
drunk on your innocent love's insistance on laughter and sweetness
For I won't stay drunk for long my love...
I won't stick around happiness for long...

Let go of me I tell you,
For all I would do is hurt you
and hurt myself in the process
For I am drugged on sorrow my love

Clinging to the sheer pain of life
I draw you near to my weeping heart
Make you go through all that turmoil
For that is all I can hear in my head in the eternal silence of life

I live in a world of grey
where you are pricked and poked in different levels of pain
just so you would know that you are...

Which is why I tell you

I won't stay long around happiness...
For I am a soul that seeks the infinite bliss of killing one's own soul just so as to say "C you are alive"...!
- the ecstacy of slow death, a privilege of the mortals. . .

Theirs. . .

It was her.  He picked the ringing fone softly flashing her name to her fav song.  Her voice melodious as always, tugged at the depth of his heart. He could hear the excitement - of a secret about to be shared - in her voice, as she invited him to their fav meeting spot to tell him about something important, "for a special surprise" as she put it.  His eyes were softening at the sound of her voice, but also had the pain they always bore, whenever he heard her.  He smiled, so she could hear it in his voice and said he'll be there, for after all, he had been expecting this call.  He went about his day of work, without any visible distraction, but a neat undercurrent of memories, wishes, hopes, disappointments, love, misery.

He was there, 15 mins ahead in time and stood at the shore and let the lapping waves soothe his tired body while his heart raced.  But he exuded calm and cool, as always.  He sensed her and turned, she walked to the spot beside him and stood enjoying the soothing waves and the beautiful scenery, emanating soft beauty, as always.  The beach was mostly deserted at this late twilight hour.  They walked to their fav bench, she entwined her hand through his elbow on the way and he responded with a reassuring smile.

As they sat at the bench, she took his hand in hers and smiled, eyes widened, he understood her question and pretended a "no guesses" shrug of his shoulders but with enough enthusiasm to egg her on.  She placed his palm on her abdomen and he heard the faint but racing pulse as his own rose to match.  He searched her eyes and she replied with her twinkle eyed smile, cracking a dimple at one cheek.  He fell in love, all over again, as always.

"I did it", she said, almost trembling with passionate enthusiasm, "Artificial Insemination, State sperm Bank, they did not reveal the donor, not even to me, rules, and am only glad.  Called mom and dad and gave them the news.  They cut, not just the call."  He could see her swallowing the bitterness and disappointment gracefully and bring back her charming smile.  He wanted to engulf her in a hug.  "It's ok", she said as his care and worry for her showed in his eyes, "this heartbeat cures more than I imagined it would", she looked at her abdomen fondly.

He did not take his hand off her pulsing abdomen till they parted for the evening.  He dropped her at her door, a cozy little house where she lived alone, refused her offer to go inside with a whispered goodnight kiss on her forehead which she returned with a warm bear hug.

He left after she walked in and waved a good bye from inside the chain locked door.  He reached home, called up the doctors, the sperm bank and his confidente, the friend who pulled the strings.  Thanked them all  for her safety and for keeping his identity a secret, as a tear drop streaked his one cheek.

Your silken fingers with their roughened skin, gracefully wrap around my Jugular again…

Your knees pressing  hard against my ribcage
Your strong hands suffocating me more with each breath I take

I’m blacking out,
I’m seeing stars,
Losing my senses and fading fast
Present tense a pretense, the darkness of my past, Moving like shadows cast, in the night…

You change your mind, release a bit, the rush of air, disorienting me more,
You relent your grip, I try to get up and trip, face down…
You turn me on my back, run your fingers across my neck, resting your knees on my chest again…

I do not have the strength to be scared, nor the sense to surrender
I take rattling breaths, battling to stay alive, to feel you against me for some more time

Your silken fingers with their roughened skin,  gracefully wrap around my Jugular again…

I snuggle closer to you, you respond with a harder press of your knees on my chest…
I put my shivering hand, cold, around your waist, Your body hot from the exertion…


You place a delicious kiss on my charred lips, dry from the silent exhaution, making me long for more
You lovingly wipe my forehead, my panic sweat, making me yearn for more of that comfort…


I mutter and sputter, you lean in close, to listen to my death wish
I pull you close to me, my last remaining ounce (of energy) exerted, your hot breath on my face,
  moving a strand of stray hair, disheveled by my struggle.


Your grip not strong enough by the distraction now, I take that (the) chance to crane my neck to reach higher
I catch your lips with mine and you grant me my parting gift
And at that moment, in your eyes, I saw my imminent death…


I felt love, in your last strangle at my throat,
Your beautiful face was the last thing inhaled…
While your sensuous, lingering kiss, leveraged me into a final orgasm - Death…

Flashback...!!

Life doesn't seem to be the same at all times... like us. Different situations kindling the different personalities inside us, each having one strong line of emotion- the force, the energy that changes the whole environment, everything around us, people, their views, and hence our reaction to them, that, an emotion again. "Strange" is the word that comes to my mind when I realize the above. Strange but how true…

Now, as I read the above after 3 months or more from my writing it, I can see that I have come really a lot far away from my innocent childhood, ambiguous adolescence to the little matured late teens.

How life and time play a tricky game, making us passionate, pleasing, making us expect, joyous, disappointed, displeasing and teaching us all the way through... Though the civilized mankind has understood all this (or that is what it thinks!!), developing special fields for it called philosophy etc., the truth remains that "the very wise mankind" is still a student, learning the lessons of life, a different one each time and a different one to each person, making it impossible to make an index for the chapters learnt.

Yew!! I seem to be talking big things; I am just 18!

That was 3 years ago. That was the first ever blog i wrote, the one i spoke abt in the "first blog". Its been a real long time since i blogged. Thought i wud start anew with a flashback...!! ;p

Campus Placement

Its my third year now... Companies will start coming for campus recruitment from the next semester... Kinda excited and scared at the same time... Need to increase my Grade Point average... Need to increase my apti skills and vocabulary... I actually have plans of going into, u know, core bioinformatics... But for now i need to get placed in a good company, even if it is IT.. Gotta get independent.. Help pay back my educational loan...

May b i'll do some studying side by side wen i work... Try doin something so that i can really go deep into my field...

Lots of IT companies r coming to our college.. But only a very few Bio related companies... Many of my seniors hav gotten into good Pharmaceutical companies through Off Campus Recruitments though... Our staff r telling us that there r chances of Astra Zeneca and Johnson and Johnson coming... It'll b really cool if that's gonna happen... Let's c...