SHOTS - HUMAN TRAFFICKING

Note: Again, a long pending draft... When I reread these even I felt horrible... Don't ask me how or why I came up with these things.  And the truth is I do not know anyway that writing this could actually help anyone?!
How can common people stop any of this, or contribute in some way to stopping any of these things?
One thing we can promise ourselves is to make sure that the next generation is inspired to be good.


She tried to contain her excitement! She felt proud to be doing this, joining work on her 16th birthday...!!
Not many girls from her elementary school had survived unmarried and NOW she would work to support herself and her family!
She would be the son her parents had always wanted...until her little baby brothers were born that is but they are little and sick, so she could be like an elder son! 
She held on to her little sister with more resolve, the puny 12 year old hands gripping her tight in response.
They walked into the "firm" and were happy to see many girls of their own age or lesser.  She was glad her sister had someone to play with.
She was not sure why Chacha did not look proud or excited for them.  He smiled with resignation and relief as he pocketed the amount carefully and patted her head saying "we will save your little brothers don't worry"





Twins were such a rare thing as it is and both boys meant definitely good things to come.  She had seen it in happening in the past year.
Two of her sisters getting married to the old station master and his helper on the same day!  Even Arasi said everyone in the village were jealous of her family.
Then her father refused to give her away in marriage though she turned 13 last month...
AND NOW she was being allowed to go work out of town.
Kumar mama had made them see the possibility of her and latchumi supporting her family.  Of course dad got drunk silently and mom moved her big bellied frame as silently out of the house as she could with almost inaudible sobs.
She would take latchumi to a movie with their first salary.  They will eat one meal less to make up for the ticket.
The memories kept repeating themselves as it did almost every morning.
She tried to be strong as she walk to the dormitory where girls her sister's age lived and worked - cleaning and sewing for them - unless someone rich asked for one of them specifically. 
Or like her sister today, turned 12. 
May be she could bribe auto Ravi with a free round to help sneaking them out to a movie and back...




With this one, it added up to Rs.10000.  That would be more than enough to pay for everything.
She would need to hurry to send the money order in before evening - it was Friday, the busiest nights mostly.
Her calculations were interrupted by the discomfort of the mundane routine.
This one was always quiet and dissociated she recalled. 
She almost thanked him for the respite he gave her. 
Then she remembered and then it hurt. 
She swallowed her pride and shame.  Like everything else...




The 10 volunteers were all young men and women arranging the boxes all around for them all to pick one each when they left.
So she stood up trying not to shout at these "know it all" bunch of youngsters that had decided to educate the poor prostitutes!
Of course, one of the educated customers, or a TV ad, or a stray commoner uses one.
But they knew the reality even better.  Even the chatty Sekar had beaten her when she asked him to wear it once.
"We can suffer the disease than go through the beating everyday", she tried to maintain her tone.
She was angry that these young men and women who have probably never had sex yet, came to show them how they could be safe. 
After everything that had happened to them, why do they think AIDS was a big deal! 
She probably already had it anyway.




His friends had played a dare on him for his 20th birthday and he was not sure anymore why he agreed!
He was not sure if he was ashamed or horrified.
The experienced hands that were promised to initiate him belonged to that of an almost pretty 15 year old girl...
She did not even show any surprise at the sight of him.
He said "I don't want anything from you" but I will stay here for an hour so they pay you.
Her sly smile both teased him and thanked him.  He had his first crush and heart break at the same time. 
The NGO and the police received an anonymous tip that night.

A rant - Jallikkattu

I come from a family which is right leaning (although my father would never agree) and has always had great respect for the Judiciary in India. 
(I also have my own theories on why right leaning or why the Judiciary was so respected but this not the time and place for it so may be later.)

May be even due to this very reason, I never possessed any interest in Politics or current affairs unless it came close to my heart in some form, touched a nerve and/or I was simply too bored and purused the news.

The last few rulings (or not) and events though - I must say they have been a bit of a shocker!

Marital rape not covered under the act against Rape and Violence
---oh well, because that is an age old traditional institution that cannot be questioned or disrespected with such suspicions?!
---I came to know about this with all the debate around the Nirbhaya case.

Homosexuality is against the law as part of the unnatural offences
---oh, that!  That's because although it has always been around in our culture, it was never accepted as the "norm" (unlike marital rape)?!  So we will just uphold that as is, won't we?

No action against the Breweries and Soft drinks companies from using up our water resources to make their drinks even while many parts of the country suffer from draught!
because we just cannot halt production of organisations that keep the economy going?!
---The Maharashtra draught and all the articles around that - I think someone raised a question about the breweries at the time in one of the articles and it continues to be a constant nag at the back of my mind!!

Note: I do know that the Judiciary can only act when someone raises the case with them and I am not informed if 3) above was ever raised as one.

What is really up with us here in India?

We are in a chaotically beautiful phase here.  In the middle of a decade of transformation, of an identity crisis, where the "so called western/modern way of life" is heckling at all our present cultural and traditional practices.

A phase where people are constantly choosing what from our cultural and traditional past still is relevant to our newer way of life.

I myself live a life of an hypocrite sometimes, where even though I do not believe in so many practices but still end up being participating for various reasons. 
But that said I am very clear of what I do believe in, and what I don't. 

I have just evolved to know the difference in people - where and when I think my protests or confrontation would pay and where it would simply cause harm and pain achieving absolutely no gain for either parties involved.

This "knowing the difference" has brought me so much peace at the cost of not explaining my true beliefs or pretending to go through a few mins of some practice that I may not believe in.

This may not work for everyone and but has for me and I am glad for it.

I have strayed away a bit from the main point I wanted to discuss!!  On that note, this ban on Jallikattu has caught my attention due to having people around me that are passionately involved in protecting this tradition and voicing their protest!

"Neeya Naana" on Vijay TV once, quite a few months ago, had this very topic and brought in all the experts (Senapathy is a name that I do remember) that are actively involved in the case today, to talk about Jallikattu... and boy was I blown away!? 

The idea of "Madumeikkira payala!" was utterly crumpled and tossed out; I saw so many educated young and old, expertly explaining agricultural and socio-economic details that left me totally bought to the cause.

I recommend watching this show if anyone is interested. 

Now this and a few articles I shared on FB are just GEMS!  The most striking of this one for me is the evidence from Sangam literature, the Indus Valley seal and the description of the Event from the "Durai Kaalam".

https://thewire.in/19157/banning-jallikattu-will-decimate-indias-indigenous-cattle-breeds/

I wish we could see the arguments presented on both sides in the Supreme court.  My strongly instilled belief in Indian Judiciary tells me that if anything like these articles were presented as arguments in the court there would certainly not be a ban but only a Regulation for this sport!  Wonder what really went on in there.

To think about the real cause for this case - There are hordes of sports out loose that actually cause harm!  What about them?  Why this sport specifically is being scrutinized?  And the other question that nags me is why would they target Tamil Native breeds?  Given that UP and MP are much higher with their cattle and milk production ratios, have they been taken over yet?

Update:  I learnt from one of the videos that they indeed have been.  TN is one of the few states that still have a majority of the native breeds.

These questions are more of trying to prove if there is really an alternate motive to this Ban with the MNC's and taking over the world of cattle conspiracy in mind?  What is the argument for the other really?  I would love to get my hands on the court evidence and argumenbts if they are public!

An FB page had someone posting a wonderful summary with a reference to A1 and A2 milk and the background studies.  A quick search gave me this.  I am sure we can find much more detailed papers on these.

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC3475924/

There was one specific comment from one of the FB forum/conversations where the statistics provided (or not provided) was being questioned and that was simply intelligent questions that did not have answers.

The simple way to stop this protest and put sens einto the protesters would be to distribute this report and evidence is it not. They could seek the court's permission(if required) to make this documenbt public and make the protesters read those arguments?  So called ëducating the masses". 

If you truly care about the animals then reach out to the people that want to "cause harm" and give them your arguments, no....!!?    Not go door to door just publish your arguments online or in one of the national papers.  Nope! 

There are more and more articles, videos and recordings releasing day by day that simply educate why Jallikattu is important and what it stands for.  No wonder I support Jallikattu and the preserving of native breeds. 

If one were to suggest a better way to keep this going without the "harm"I am sure people would welcome it but that is c onspicuously absent from the arguments on the other side!

SHOTS - A Series of shorts - World Hunger

A good mentor of mine told me once - why don't you use your interests more to the benefit of your beliefs/philosophies/principles? 

I couldn't tell him this at the time because I was afraid of admitting this even to myself but I doubt if I can contribute to any of these "causes" that have me going anytime!! 

It is a question of doubt in myself and my faith!

So a small attempt towards testing it... 

The inspiration was a few two liner stories I read that someone forwarded on whatsapp. 

Story 1:

Her own lines - about people needing to be responsible for the quantity of the food they make or order - from her award winning journal article on World hunger flashed through her head. 

The very reason why she came to this favourite "inexpensive but partly non profit" food haunt of hers that served great quality food - apt for her celebration she had thought! 

She had almost chastised herself into not feeling proud of the fact that she did not choose any of the flash restaurants her Mentor had suggested to go - just for today - while she politely refused that that would be so hypocritical of her if she did go! 

She had instead chosen to dine quietly by herself in her favourite food haunt, rejoicing at her first victory and hoping to give her full at the internship she just won, to work for that very cause.

Not 15 mins after, ashamed of herself, her eyes brimmed with tears while she constantly whispered what she knew to be useless "Sorry" to the scores of hungry people old and young across the world that would not hear or be able to respond to that anyway. 

But she still counldn't bring herself to pick up that whole serving spoon of her favourite food that the new waiter mistakenly dropped on the floor while serving and was now looking at her expecting her to get him fired on his probable first day at work! 

Story 2:

She was pensieve more than upset. After so many years of experience she had grown numb to emotional shock and impact that might come with watching an infant as young as that pass away for lack of nutrition, not a sip of water or mother's milk! 

The world was indeed cruel and it hadn't changed in her 15 years of practice.  Her ability to respond more than react helped her cope with this kind of environment that she chose to work for. 

Her train of thought was dirupted when her son walking in - sweaty from playing to his heart's content all morning, on his last day of school holidays this season - and going for a glass of water dipping two of his fingers in to hold it right. He was still young, she knew.

But she couldn't stop from reacting to "that" and did not pause to think while draining that almost perfectly drinkable glass of water down the sink and feeding him a fresh glass to avoid him touching it. 

She did not know if she felt ashamed or angry or disappointed in herself and unfair world she lived in while mumbling a word of prayer for that infant soul!

Note: I'll try to shorten them in the ones to come.  I will switch "causes" but want to continue a series on world hunger.

But some interesting apps I came across are: 

Share The Meal - WHO

MOHAN Foundation - EDonor App

I am yet to explore these in full so more on them later.

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

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?!

Personally I don't like India! But you could visit...

I am not sure why we are this way, but I see a lot if this around me in this country.  May be this is prevalent across the world but I don't know about that.  I wouldn't since I have travelled nowhere outside of my country.  Not even out to many other states within India let alone go out of the country.  But that being said I have, yes, have seen this complex.  A sort of superiority inbred inferiority complex.  Or may be the other way around?! We go around bitching about the country even though we live here, earn our money and not just survive but live here.  Some of us who do this may have travelled outside of the country, may have lived there a few years but that doesn't warrant this sort of bitching about the country to foreign nationals in the name of being friendly!!! Why do we do this?! I don't know.  It's alright when we do it among ourselves but not to outsiders.  Or is it? Is it alright, this basic thought, this shame of belonging to or living in this nation?  

I do not believe in taking pride in just the ancient history and keep talking about it all the time to all visitors.  Atleast not anymore.  But that doesn't mean you say this is one of the worst places to live in.  

It is a basic right or rather a responsibility to feel proud of the good things in ones country.  Note 'the good things'.   Why not? 

I have a few around me who travel frequently, extensively and/or regularly to different parts of the world and from all that I have read/heard I know that we are bad in some things but also good in some.  As always with any place isn't it? 

But I do think it should be ingrained in us to not bitch about the country to others let alone feel proud and share it.  It should be one of the morals taught at home along with 'stealing is wrong' or something as basic as that.  

I am not saying that we should not involve in intelligent discussion (or even as someone put it armchair debates) but please have a basic sense of patriotism or atleast hospitality.  Yes hospitality, for hospitality is not just making the guest comfortable but also feeling a sense of accountability/responsibility and/or pride towards ones place wherein the hospitality is offered.

I wish I had the guts and enough knowledge to make a sane conversation and make this co passenger in my train understand that your fake accent and half baked command over the language and the conformity that you seek by making yourself an outsider from all the bad things in your country is only going to make you be valued at much less and your country even worse (or may be the other way around) than if you behaved a good host and not bitch about your country unnecessarily even when the guest  insisted your place was good.  Or better keep quiet.  I have this strong urge or impulse to show this script to this co passenger but being a young woman traveling alone in train I do not want to risk my safety.  Yes I know this is probably making me a coward and may be even as bad as what I just wrote about but could I help it? Probably not! Time will tell.  If I act on this impulse will update this blog.

Being friendly and personally showing off (supposedly) as an outsider is an INGNOMINY and NOT a thing of pride!!! 

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.

Independence - Life's Reward Structure

The problem with the people that love you/care about you is that they tend to not be able to accept the fact that you have grown up and/or that you are on your own, especially when you make decisions and choices that don't really go down well with them. 

Be it really big or really small, it is not - you did something like that because you made a conscious decision/choice - but were under a bad influence which lead you to do something like that, which you could not have conceived of by yourself, No!

The reason is simple, they cannot find fault with you, so it has to be someone or something else.  May be the friends, the various relationships with their environ, that may have put such thoughts and actions in them... But well, the hard truth is that, it is in most cases, not so!

There is this innate nature in human beings to gain independence in every form.  Entropy may be, showing up in its purest form!?  One wants to go his or her own way, learn things the hard way, even though there is this wisest person who could give you the best advise on the matter, right there, next to you in theform of a parent or a sibbling or a close friend.

But this may be out of various decisions/thought processes.  As in my case for instance, one may just want to learn it the hard way because there is a certain satiety associated with self learning even masochistic sometimes. There is a certain pride associated with "self" people and again the society or the upbringing is to be blamed for this thought structure too.  Independence, has some respect, some glamour to it, though people do not want it for their children all too soon (and it is almost always too soon).  So one may want to prove to their kin and kind that they are strong by trying to be independent and ends up growing a fondness to it, an attachment that becomes a fixation.  A reward structure.  Like a hard earned penny or something.  The learning that comes out, a "life's hard truth" that stares out at you at the end of a difficulty, may not be very sweet, but you will never forget the bitter sting and hence the learning either.  Or the reward it brought to you in any form/degree of satisfaction.

Is it wise to let people go and make all the bad decisions and learn by themselves, especially when it is your beloved child? Of course not, but you may have to let some learnings pass by, without your interference, and teach themselves to your loved ones, the hard way or otherwise!  Standing aside and watching your child grow up and try to fight life is a part of parenting too and the challenge is to keep them on their feet while they do, giving them the push without them realizing it, by a simple process - Trusting them to do it!

Trust works wonders... Trust me on this...

P.S: As always all these thoughts bring a stronger fear out, rather makes me brace myself to face a stronger challenge, in my future - Parenting!

Hers. . .

She always felt like she has known her for a long time. . . There was something about the look in her daughter's eyes like she knew her mother too well for her age or time would have permitted her to know.  The serene smile, yet, so innocent as it was worn on the little face. . .

The skin so soft.  The soft silky brown hair undecidedly folding into curls at the ends.  The little hands and feet.  The milky fragrance of her little body.  Even when the baby cried relentlessly in the nights during their initial days together, she did not get irritated. If she was tired, the minute she lifted her daughter, she was grateful for the warmth and comfort the little body offered her.  Her daughter was the most beautiful thing she had ever looked at, ever held. 

The little crinkles near the beautiful brown eyes. . . And those eyes.  That sometimes, soothed her... Sometimes disturbed her. . . It was colour she knew only too well.  She had not thought about it clearly for a long time though it used to nag her mildly, constantly. Every time she looked at her beloved child, she would invariably get hooked to the eyes.

Then it came to her one day. When she was going through her school photographs.  But it couldn't be.  It may not really be for it was not distinctly that shade of dark brown.  It was like a somehow more feminine version of the same eyes.  But it could just not be.

Everytime she thought about it, she became uncomfortable.  For her general wondering grew into a disturbing curiosity.  Then it drew her imaginative mind's interest far more deeply.  And before she could stop herself, she even started hoping that it was true. . . That is when she had to stop herself.  She did not want to disturb her calm, peaceful, in fact beautiful but a little lonely life.  Stop.  What was she thinking.  This is why she had to stop.  She wasn't Lonely.  She had her daughter.  This is what she had chosen.

She had the perfect life, she told herself.  An independent and interesting career.  A cozy little house for herself.  She is making enough money to support herself and her beautiful little daughter and still saving for her only daughter's future. . .

She did not have an unhappy committment - nothing that would affect her comfortable existence.  Her daughter was her world.  Her family had not spoken one word to her after her decision and she was not too worried.  Time heals everything.  She has supported her baby all alone for 2 years now. . . She was sure she can do it all her life. . .

She had her best friend to support her at hard times... No. . . No, she would do even without him.  Or would she?  Please, no not again. . .  Those eyes.  They always set her thoughts going like this which is why she was always wary of them though she loved them, especially for their familiarity for she could quietly build an imagination too good to be true. . . Wait... What is this. . . Stop. . .

She looked at her baby sleeping - the angel, the saviour, the joy. . . She soothed herself that it could not be so...  She was fine. . . Everything around her was fine. . .  And then the door bell rang.  It was time for his visit. . .  She loved to see the adorable smile that spread on her daughter's face every time she saw him. . . Much like her own happy heart at the wonderful company. . .   But she feared the day when she would ask about her father and the day she may even mistake him for, if only it were true. . . Stop. . .

She shook her thoughts away to go back to her life, the way it was. . . Happy but a little lonely. . . She had to admit. . . Except for these visits. . . She might very well admit it to herself. . . Herself alone. . . 

An evolution of the dying . . .

There are just too many dead around me for me to care for one loss

There are just too many hurt around me for me to tend to one wound

There are just too many crying around me for me to wipe one tear

There is just too much sorrow for me to sympathize

There is just too much emotion in the around for me to empathise

This is my world

This is my life

And I am a walking corpse

And I look around once to realize I am one in a herd

And I pause and let the crowd go and realize it is not a small herd but a whole population

A civilization of dead

An evolution of the dying

Whack!!

Heart is a pros***ute and the mind is the pimp!

Writing is like love, you can't decide to write even if you feel like you want to... It has to happen!

People lie because they're scared, either of telling "you" the truth or of the "truth itself"!

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…

I feel like some sci-fi movie clone that's in an identity crisis...

Don't you all, all you out there, working for a big brand company (IT industry), probably campus placement, that everybody recognises ur organisation back home but not doing anything unique... Well...

came up with the line (title) wen i wanted to comment on:

Brand Factory

nice blogs he's got there...

Disclaimer: no this is not a promotion, i do not know this guy apart from following his blogs...;P

A few lines I wrote when I thought what would I say when I actually meet... May be this, may be not...

When I thought my life had drained out
       When I felt like a saint in an emotional turmoil

When I thought I had lost my last chance
       When I felt like a lost wanderer

I found you...

When I resigned to the fact that I'm alone
       When I had finally settled (for a) into a single skin

When I reserved my romances aside
       When I had decided to give up trying

I found you...

When I thought I'm probably better off on my own
       When I felt like I'm better when left alone

When I wished the world away
       When I drowned my soul in the shadow of my self

I found you...

When I had found the courage to run the road all alone
       When I had got around the idea of me, myself for eternity

When I convinced my heart to confide in none
       When I talked my tears into giving in to gravity (read: not expecting to be caught...)

I found you...

The bridge, the cliff and the gorge...

I was scared too... there was the cliff in front of me...  A narrow gorge...
A slender pane of wooden bridge connecting the two...
The depth below was appalling
I had to walk there without any support or railing...
I was standing there and looking at it with all my concentration trying to swallow my alto phobia and vertigo...
There was a rush and enthusiasm which was helping me, for I knew I had traveled far and wide to get here.
A journey no less taxing than the one I am faced with, may be even more...
There was the land I had wanted to reach, stretching vast, just across the cliff... My destination and may be even destiny, I hoped... For if it was the latter I am sure I would reach it, no matter what I believed...
But then, the crowd behind me were catcalling and jeering...
In the hopes of making me stay back, and not take this risk, they could not afford to lose me... The irony of it, for the means they were employing were not good, not good at all...
I had to take a deep breath... Before going on... But in all that stillness and silence, I could hear their taunts clearly...
The land across is foreign, ur mission inappropriate for a person of your potential, you would never succeed in accomplishing it, let alone crossing the bridge...
You don't even have a walking stick to balance you just in case, let alone a railing on the bridge...

That made me pause... The words were slowly trickling in, percolating into the gaps called self doubt in my made up mind...
I started to have second thoughts... Damn, I thought...
I should have bought a stick on my way here, like all those people who did...

Slowly I looked at them... They were threatening, pleading, staring, but always keeping a distance... But I was blind then, blind to have noted that distance, that give away... I could have done it... Damn those little gaps...

Now, I have turned back and traveled far... Traveled parallel to that cliff... I still see it... There are so many such bridges here and there... Waiting for me to take it one day... Still I have not bought myself a walking stick... But I know, it doesn't matter... I could have done it without it...

May be one day... May be not...

This pure puzzle of a relationship...

Yes, you have got a girl that owns your heart
     and I've got the guy of my life...
But the truth is my friend, we share something special that some tend-
     to think something else, they all misunderstand...

We both know where our hearts lie,
     and so do those who own them...
But the world is spiteful and is bent
     on insisting, damn it, offense...

There is something so pure, so magical and fun...
     There's the mutual respect that you always speak about...
and yes, a bit of a harmless chemistry...
     We are just so comfortable this way...
A little mischief and a twinkling wink...
But no betrayal of our better halves
     Nothing replaces them in our lives...

Yes, we liked each other that way once...
     Yes, there was a connection that I guess still runs...
But things got different and we have come past that stage...
     and so now we can safely flirt and shrug it all away with laughter...

We don't care if the world misunderstands,
    It's all about  our respective partner's stance...
Hope they stay the way they are, clear and cool...
    and let us be what we are, friends, and some fun...

There is nothing wrong, no crossing the line,
    Just play of words and laughing it all off...
There is very little time, with each other, we spend...
    and it is such a pain to constantly fend...

So here's wishing to the stars
    and hoping in our hearts,
Let us be in this pure puzzle of a relationship
    No need to explain, not good when described - which
we both know, is beautiful...
and want the important two in our lives to know... to trust...

Why?

Why do I keep doing this... ?
Why do I keep falling for one.... after another....
I cant seem to be able to contain...
There is a wonderful energy...
A sizzling chemistry...
Oh but every time... but every time...

Why do I keep doing this... ?
Why do I keep falling for one.... after another....

They are all so beautiful... Every one...
They are all so charming... Every one of them...
I couldn't stop myself from staring...
I couldn't stop myself from talking...
I couldn't refrain from falling... head over heels...
Oh but every time... but every time...

The truth is I am scared...
the truth is I am scared of hurting them and even hurting myself...
Should I go on, with them or go on... on my own...
Should I go right or left...

I keep looking for support... Snuggling into the warmth...
The warmth of assurances...the sympathy and the empathy...

Why do I keep doing this... ?
Why do I keep falling for one.... after another....




PS:  Let's just say, there was a Mr. Y, another friend, and this poem reflects, his state of mind about a month back...

I was standing there...

I was standing there... a cup of coffee in my hand...
watching over the parapet... into the distant sky...
the important chatter n the unnecessary laughter...
all droning on around me...

n i was standing there looking to the stretching vastness of the busy lives and the shortness of them all...
like a friend once wrote, alone, but not lonely...
content with my cup of strong coffee...
with leaving my soul to my own thoughts... the thoughts that were always milling about in my head..

I was standing there with my pair of shoes in my hands...
a little wet n muddy, sand sticking to it...
the waves crashed in n retreated... gearing up to fight again...
the shore standing still and strong...
by letting go of its sand, little by little

n I was standing there with the splashing water throwing droplets to my face...
the sky, blue and all above, showing its share of magnificence...
the wind blowing more to thrust the waves forward...
the peace inside me, a piece too small...
my thoughts fighting to prove its dynamism, competing with these forces of nature...

I was standing there in testimony to the tales of a hundred thousand billion years of war and struggle...
attending the lectures of the beautiful silence, the ever captivating...
that speaks volumes, narrating the whole story of life on earth and even else where, may be...
documenting the short and the long events... the secrets, of the universe...
in that jungle of woods and variety...
did I stand, in harmony with that was all around me, but my soul...

n I was standing there listening to all that important chatter and unnecessary laughter...
all droning on around me...
back at the terrace of my workplace... with my cup of strong coffee... content with my thoughts to myself.....