Tuesday, September 25, 2012

The Mad Hatter:
Have I gone mad?

Alice:
I'm afraid so. You're entirely bonkers.
But I'll tell you a secret. All the best people are.

Wednesday, September 5, 2012

When Love Arrives


S: And love will tell you "you are beautiful"
P: and mean it,
S: over and over again.
P: "You are beautiful."
S: When you first wake up,
P: “you are beautiful.”
S: When you’ve just been crying,
P: “you are beautiful.”
S: When you don’t want to hear it,
P: “you are beautiful.”
S: When you don’t believe it,
P: “you are beautiful.”
S: When nobody else will tell you,
P: “you are beautiful.”
S: Love still thinks - you are beautiful.
P: But love is not perfect and will sometimes forget,
S: when you need to hear it most,
B: you are beautiful,
S: do not forget this.
P: Love is not who you were expecting, love is not what you can predict.
S: Maybe love is in New York City, already asleep, and you are in California, Australia, wide awake. Maybe love is always in the wrong time zone,
P: maybe love is not ready for you. Maybe you are not ready for love.
S: Maybe love just isn’t the marrying type.
P: Maybe the next time you see love is twenty years after the divorce, love looks older now, but just as beautiful as you remembered.
S: Maybe love is only there for a month.
P: Maybe love is there for every firework, every birthday party, every hospital visit.
S: Maybe love stays-
P: maybe love can’t.
B: Maybe love shouldn’t.
P: Love arrives exactly when love is supposed to, and love leaves exactly when love must.

-Sarah Kay and Philip Kaye

Read the full poem here:
http://thankyourstarsallyouwant.tumblr.com/post/30639434466

Thursday, May 31, 2012

Delusion Angel


Daydream delusion, limousine eyelash / Oh baby with your pretty face / Drop a tear in my wineglass / Look at those big eyes / See what you mean to me / Sweet-cakes and milkshakes / I’m a delusion angel / I’m a fantasy parade / I want you to know what I think / Don’t want you to guess anymore / You have no idea where I came from / We have no idea where we’re going / Lodged in life / Like branches in a river/ Flowing downstream / Caught in the current / I carry you / You’ll carry me / That’s how it could be / Don’t you know me? / Don’t you know me by now?

-David Jewell, Before Sunrise

Thursday, May 24, 2012

skyping :-)
once outside pilani, bangalore doesn't feel that far away after all! su wrapped up in her blue bedsheet lying on the bed with her lappy, swati in her "come here now" tshirt, kansal... her usual mature motherly self.
making faces at each other, watching swati's innumerable expressions, discussing bad haircuts... i am happy happy! 

Wednesday, May 16, 2012

I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

-Pablo Neruda

Tuesday, May 8, 2012

Why do girls make you uncomfortable?


I watched Satyameve Jayate the other night. It got me thinking.

I told S about it, and though jokingly, he replied " Tere aas paas nahi ho raha hai toh tu kyu mood kharab kar rahi hai? " and " But you people get reservations everywhere, so it evens out ".

I just couldn’t say any further.

1.) S, or other educated men his age wouldn’t even know how we have been faced with the situation of “a girl over a boy” THROUGHOUT our lives. It is not like it hasn’t happened with me over a hundred times. It is not unusual, when I tell someone about me or my family, to ask - “So you don’t have any brothers?”  It is very regular. Rather a custom, to pose this question. EVERYONE does that.
Do you realize how WRONG it is to talk like this? IN FRONT of the girls? You are saying to them that their parents don’t want them? That they don’t have a right to exist? That random strangers can be rude to them just because they are girls? What is it about girls that you hate so much?
What, about having two daughters, makes them so uncomfortable? Heck! People have children because they WANT to have children. Some people are in LOVE with each other and become pregnant and get moony-eyed ideas about wanting to create a family together.
Why are some people so distressed by little girls?

No one has the answers, of course. Only preconceived, borrowed ideas and conditioned responses.

I feel sorry.

2.) And Yes! I have stood in the “Ladies Line” at booths and ticket counters. Yes, I have seats reserved for me in the city buses. Yes, I do get favours, and get encouraged because I’m a girl. I agree.

But do I not need all that? Do I need to be being ‘brushed against’, ‘bumped against’, 'ogled
at', 'touched' or 'grabbed' every time I go out of the house? Do I deserve THAT? Is that ALL I am worth?
When I walk alone, I walk with all my senses on alert. I walk with aggression and hold a bag or something protectively against me, with my elbows ever-ready to shove someone in case they touch me. Do you know how stressful it is to walk like that, protecting yourself constantly, without letting your guard down? Do you realise how painful it is to think that you can't enjoy a good walk alone for the fear of being touched by a creep? Do you realize how restricting, how rage-inducing, how utterly defeating it is to be that way every day? Do men understand why women hold on to their men tight? Why they ask their men to ask for directions, buy a pack of cigarettes or walk half a step behind, very close to their men?
It is difficult to be always on guard, always watchful, always wary.
Men. Why cannot they control their urges?
My questions are these: 
1. What is it that makes some men violate a woman's personal space and touch her? Who gives them the right to do that and think it's bloody okay?
2. What is it that separates a molester from a regular man? What makes two men look at a woman and react in two different ways: One checks her out, finds her appealing and stops with that, while the other one reaches out and touches her? What is that essential difference? Lack of control? Lack of decency? Bad upbringing? A disdain for women?
3. Do they also look at the women in their home with the same filth in their eyes with which they look at my breasts or butt or thighs? I mean to ask do these men who touch women without their permission on the streets also touch their women -- mothers, wives, sisters -- at home? Are these, in effect, perpetrators of incest? Or is it just other women they feel comfortable grabbing?
4. Are women responsible for these men having absolutely no fear to touch, grope, or expose themselves to women? Have years of "just ignore him" behaviour emboldened these men to do as they please? Would a man think twice if he had been beaten by a woman for touching her or passing a lewd comment at her?
I don't know how many women can safely say that they have never been molested in their lives. If they've been out in a public space, it doesn't matter what they are wearing, whether they are in great shape, whether they're lovely to look at or just plain, they will have been grabbed.

Every woman has been a victim. And talking about it is embarrassing. One touch, and it feels as if our whole existence is worthless. Every one of us has gone through some incident that has left some impact on the way we carry ourselves today.
They stare at me,
Scan me head to toe.
Their sight lingering at places.
I feel naked,
Stripped off and raped.
They touch me,
Inappropriately.
Just an accident each time.
Shamelessly smiling all the while.
My flesh becomes numb,
As if hacked into pieces
And ready to be served.
I am ashamed of them.
They make me feel
That my birth was a sin,
And my body- a curse;
That I am nothing
But a chunk of juicy meat.
-Nilanjana
And here we’re not even talking about things like talking to our breasts instead of talking to us.

And we do not have to go as far as high numbers to know how deeply we hate our women. Start in a home. A number of girls glow with pride when someone tells them they are tomboyish. A girl child, these days, is constantly being pushed to doing everything a boy child does. To the extent that dolls or breakfast/kitchens sets will not be bought for the girl lest she think that is her "role" in life, to nurture and cook. What they are actually doing is taking their little girls away from what might be their natural tendency.
While a boy may hang from doors, a girl will hang on to a thought, develop it and use it later in conversation. A boy might be able to identify cars well before he's three, but a girl may be identifying behavior pointers, books and tapping an imagination that may or may not turn her into an entertaining drama queen later in life.
We're telling our women to not be emotional at work because it undermines our authority. We're telling women to not take days off to be with our kids when they are sick because it gives us a reputation of being unreliable.We're telling our women - don't wear distracting earrings, try and avoid bright feminine colours in corporate settings, we're telling our women keep our hair short because it's easier to manage and is less distracting, we're telling our women to not cry like a girl, to compete like a boy and to be everything a man is, except shirtless.
What we're telling our women is that it's more fun to be a guy than to be a girl. Subtle, and unconscious, but we teach our children to dislike women much before they can even say misogyny.

Why does this comparison even come in? Boys and Girls need not be the same, in order to be equal. Raising a girl like a boy is in no way- “a better way of life”. Sending daughters to school, educating them, and loving them should not need to include “like a son” in the sentence.
I don’t want to have a daughter.
I thought so too. But truth be told, I would love to have a daughter. Teach her the right things in life. Raise her like a girl.

Like charity begins at home, the change in attitude also needs to begin at home. Parents need to teach their girls AND boys how to respect the other gender. That large dose of morals which our parents seem to love pushing down our throats from the time we’re born could be safely halved and shared with the sons as well.

Men and Women are not the same. They need not be so, to be equal. Equality merely means not treating women any differently from men.

We don't want to end up with one gender.





Stuff from -
http://therestlessquill.blogspot.comhttp://nilanjanasadhu.blogspot.com
“Do girls make you uncomfortable?” – Natasha Badhwar for Live Mint

Monday, April 30, 2012

Dilon mein tum apni betabiyaan leke chal rahe ho,
 Toh zinda ho tum.
 Nazar mein khwabon ki bijliyaan leke chal rahe ho,
 Toh zinda ho tum.


 Hawa ke jhonkon ke jaise azad rehna seekho,
 Tum ek dariya ke jaise lehron mein behna seekho;
 Har ek lamhe se tum milo khole apni baahein,
 Har ek pal ik naya samaan dekhein yeh nigaahein.

 Jo apni aankhon mein hairaniyaan leke chal rahe ho,
 Toh zinda ho tum.
 Dilon mein tum apni betabiyaan leke chal rahe ho,
 Toh zinda ho tum.

-Javed Akhtar, Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara

P.S. Surekha Bhanot Ma'am recited it in the second semester MB farewell for the batch of 2008

Friday, April 27, 2012

Butterscotch and Blackcurrent!

Two great flavours. Each unique in its own way.

The beauty of butterscotch lies in it being universally loved. One could have it Monday to Friday and love it equally each day of the week! Blackcurrent on the other hand is an unconventional choice and has its own secret charm!

Su had found them long back. I found them today.

It was obvious. Undeniable.

Wednesday, April 25, 2012

Of Opportunities and Conveniences

1-2. EG classes. We had devised this brilliant theory about the 'opportunities and conveniences' that were offered by Su's seat in LTC with respect to a certain Mr. Thakkar's seat. We always found ourselves the perfect place to sit, quite like Sheldon's OCD to sit in his.

Today, when I think about it, I realize its greater implications. Here we are all (most of us), at one of life's crossroads, beaten down to make a choice. Lying down in bed every night, I desperately try to find a balance between the opportunities and the conveniences that my options have to offer. I fail to figure out. I fail to make sense of my thoughts. They keep contradicting each other endlessly, until I decide to leave them at it and go to sleep.

I wish it was easier. But as they say, nothing worth having comes easy! And so I tell myself too.
We shall see what comes, and we shall make lemonade out of those lemons!

Tuesday, April 24, 2012

To Crush or Not To Crush

So much crushing everywhere! So much hotness, cuteness, and pure awesomeness in twelve hours. Way more than this weak heart can handle!

Can anyone die of a crush overdose? I wonder.

From first year to fourth year. From Pilani to Bangalore. The question remains eternally unanswered. There comes a point in every crushing phase where one decides whether to nip it in the bud or to let it bloom. And once the crush has flowered, the mind hovers over it like a silly little butterfly.

And so just when I had decided that my biggest crush was no longer my biggest crush, he returned in all his glory. As if to reclaim the crown that shall eternally belong to him!

Wednesday, March 28, 2012

For you, a thousand times over.

- Khaled Hosseini, The Kite Runner

Thursday, March 15, 2012

I have been missing you. A lot. And as much as I decide against it, and fight it, I cannot. I don't say much. Probably in little things like I want to get drunk and dance with you. But I want so much. I read your mail and wanted to call you. But then decided against it. I will cry. You will cry too, I think. It will be such a mess. I don't want to cry with you, I want to laugh with you, with no worries.

Instead, I cry in my bed and go buy myself a Bournville. Alone.

Monday, March 5, 2012

it was one of my craziest performances on stage... ever. and i so missed the three of them!

Friday, January 6, 2012

Dear Diary

January 5, 2012

Pilani had always felt like home. I loved this place, even before I knew I was going to spend the four most precious years of my life here. And yet when I walked into Meera today, I wanted to run away from this place. It hurt to be here... to walk into this place... to have no one to call and tell, “I’m here!”

I walked into a wing with random people bonding in the corridor, known rooms with unknown people, empty inspite of all the noise around... and then on my door I found a peacock feather and a post-it-note that I had once put on Su’s wall. It said ‘Thank you =) It is washed but not ironed though’. Su had signed below it. And amongst all the trash scribbled on the door I noticed the red sparkling ‘we love you nil’. I couldn’t help the tears. Somebody walking by said ‘hi’. I ignored. I walked into my room and closed the door.

Was it going to be this bad? No... right? I can live through this... one day at a time....

In the next five minutes I realized that Swati’s pink bin is missing and I can’t walk into Su’s room to ask for her broom. Finally, I changed my clothes and went to find Archie. It felt good. Familiar faces, familiar smiles, familiar jokes. Familiar, but not the same anymore.

In bed... unsure, cold, lonely, and terribly hungry. Yes, I miss the gajar ka halwa, the thekuas, the son-papdis, the pethas... but way more than those, three very mad creatures.