Two reasons why everyone needs to watch the movie 'Piku'.

It's been ages since I have proactively wanted to watch a Bollywood movie. Because lets face it, why in the hell would I want to pay to watch something that dumbs my brain down? I can do that at my home, sitting in front of the idiot box watching any Saas Bahu series (which by the way I hate) and get more senseless masala than any bollywood movie could show, without even paying. Who then could blame me for being a little surprised about the rave reviews that Piku has been generating ever since its release. Based on the reviews, I apprehensively decided to watch the movie and am so glad that I did! It's high time that Bollywood finally made a movie that made sense to everyone, that did not involve item numbers, scintillating skin show without a proper story and absurd comedy that no one laughs at. What a well written, well acted and well shot movie! Hats off to Shoojit Sarkar for conceptualizing such a story and bringing it to life.

Talking about bringing the story to life, for me, the person who steals the show is ofcourse Amitabh Bacchan, but then you tend to expect it of him after so many years of experience and thankfully he hasn't disappointed. His rendition of an aging yet modern intellectual Bengali father has been spot on. Deepika and Irfan khan do not disappoint either, Deepika plays an independent Bengali daughter, comfortable in her own skin and not afraid to speak her mind, which is how most Bengalis I know are. While Irfan Khan plays the owner of a cab agency which rents cabs to Deepika's agency and that's how the whole story is connected.

What I liked about the movie is how the movie talks on issues like women empowerment without really being feminist or preaching. Honestly am sure most of us women who are 25 and above, including me, face the 'marriage' problem at home. However accomplished we are, whether we are senior managers, entrepreneurs or CEO's and even if we are earning well and supporting ourselves comfortably, for our parents we are not accomplished till we bag ourselves a successful, rich and 'khandaani' husband. And by 'bag' I mean through arranged marriage, not through love marriage. That's the final goal for many parents! And it's not just for us women. Men face this problem too, albiet a bit late. So they get 5-6 years more than us to bag a 'sundar, sushil and gharelu' wife and again through arranged marriage. Woe begone if you choose to find a wife/ husband for yourself and rob them of their right and only chance (if you are the only son/daughter) of finding a wife/ husband for you. Am sure, there must be many progressive families where this is not the case and love marriage and marrying late isn't frowned upon, but sadly my family isn't one of them.

And for all such families (including my own), I suggest that they watch Piku. Rather than showing the usual Bollywood drama, what the movie instead does is, it portrays the story of a typical yet progressive Indian family going about their day to day lives. Generally, in a typical Indian family, after the mother's death, any father's goal in life would be to see his daughter accomplished and settled with a good husband and kids. But in this movie, the father is hell bent on not letting his daughter marry, so much so that he goes on to foil his daughter's attempts to date by telling the guy who's hitting on her about her previous physical relationships. Which again is a nice surprise as any talk about physical relationships in a typical Indian family is generally frowned upon and suppressed. The reason for the father's attempts to foil his daughter's dating attempts are even more surprising - because he doesn't want his daughter to marry at all! This is the first time am seeing any parent want such a thing for his child. However, the reason for the father's actions are quite noble, it's because he believes that generally marriage brings women down, that it doesn't allow women to progress and it doesn't let woman to reach their full potential. This is mostly because women become dependent on their husbands, they allow themselves to be domesticated and do not think about their careers. He further goes on to cite lives of Rani Lakshmibai, Annie Besant etc as examples of how women should explore their full potential in life. Wonderful thoughts indeed! So when we have someone like Amitabh Bacchan propagating to the general audience that women should not let others bring them down and they have equal if not more potential and rights than their husbands, it strikes the bulls eye in people's minds. It sets an example for every parent on parenting. Further it does not take sides or belittle men.

The second thing that the movie does is, it portrays the nuances of a father daughter relationship in a dysfunctional family rather beautifully. The frustrations faced by Piku because of her father's antics in trying to get her attention, the psychology behind Piku's father's various made-up maladies, their love for each other and the protectiveness they feel towards each other in spite of everything has been beautifully shown. Again the movie stresses on the social issue of children abandoning their parents when they get old by showing how Piku puts her father's care before her marriage, how she says that it doesn't matter if her caring for her father for the next 10-20 years more means that she is going to remain a spinster. She stands by her decision of not marrying by stating that if she is to marry, her husband will just have to accept the fact that her father is going to live with them, even if he's difficult to live with. Such thinking amongst children is rare nowadays. Today, people are so busy in their career and their own nuclear family life that they tend to ignore their old parents who they forget have cared for them and are partly the reason for their success.

At the danger of sounding preachy, these two reasons are exactly why everyone should watch the movie. The movie has a little something for everyone to take away. And by showing real life instances which happen in every family in a humorous way, the movie does not even preach! As such, every parent and every child should watch this movie and take inspiration from Piku and her father and hopefully change their mindset and thinking about marriage and about caring for their old parents. Also here's hoping that this trend of intellectual movies in Bollywood continues and we get to see more such movies rather than the usual song and dance sequences that we have been used to and are now bored of.

Why I suck at the Art of Intimacy

Generally, am not scared of most things. I am not scared of darkness, water or animals. Am definitely not scared of dogs. Cute beings, them. I am not scared of closed spaces, blood or dentists. Am not even scared of being operated upon (I think. I'll cross that line when it comes to it). Am not scared of ghosts or otherworldly demons. Yeah horror movies do freak me out sometimes, but that's mostly cos of the sound effects. Mute the damn thing and you'll see me laughing at all the gore. Once upon a time, I thought I was scared of heights, but then I bungee jumped from 764 feet from the Macau tower and whoooosh..I realized I was never scared. But dear friends, let me tell you, there are 4 things am really scared about. Like really, really scared about. Without further ado...they are (drumroll please):

1) Fire
2) Flying and crawling insects and animals
3) Hugging(or any form of intimacy)

      Dear readers, this post, as you may all have guessed by now, is about my fear of hugging. More likely the fear of hugging people whom I don't know well and then the fear of hugging people I know well for the first time. So how did I get this irrational fear of hugging? Am sure you all must be waiting for a juicy story about how in my childhood I was scarred for life because I was subjected to some sort of abuse and hence I have this fear of hugging people and being hugged by people. Well to be frank, that's as far from the truth as can be. I had a very loving childhood, with no untoward incidents, and yes it has shaped my personality into what it is today except for the hugging part. This fear of hugging on the other hand may be due to the fact that I am a half introvert & a half extrovert. Yes that's a thing. I checked online. Like this post says http://www.fluentin3months.com/stop-being-shy/ we are called ambiverts.

Oh yeah!

I am one of those confused beings who can party really hard, talk to as many people I want to, when I want to, be the life of a party without trying much and yet feel shy while talking to some people at particular times, feel depressed that no one on earth cares about me (when actually that's not really true) and then sometimes go to the extreme of avoiding people when I don't feeling like socializing. So without digressing further, I think my fear of hugging partly stems from this. But again let me say that all this is speculation. In no way am I a certified and trained psychologist.

      From a young age, being an ambivert I had very few but really good friends. And then because till my engineering days I was a goody two shoes, I rarely socialized and hence I didn't encounter much hugging. In any case this hugging thing became a trend only towards the middle of my teens (Screw you Munnabhai MBBS and your Jaadu ki Jhapi!).

By which time I was already stunted by my inadequacy in the vast knowledge of hugging. I mean really, how do you know whether to go towards the right or the left when the person is coming towards you? God forbid in your moment of indecision you end up bumping your faces together! And unlike the movies wherein when such disasters happen, people who bump their faces together by mistake end up kissing each other, am sure, such bullshit never happens in real life. In real life, a disaster is a disaster. When you bump faces, it hurts and all you can do is be embarrassed and run away from each other as soon as you can. I know this cos I have done it. And for your entertainment, let me regale you with the embarrassing story of how I bumped my face into my good friend's face when we were about to hug.

      So it all happened on the day of my engineering 'unofficial' farewell. We had all decided to go for a movie and dinner and then part ways towards our respective destiny. When we were parting ways I suddenly became quite emotional, and apparently so did my good friend. And since we were a few feet apart we came running towards each other a la any Bollywood scene where the hero and heroine run towards each other on a vast sunflower field. Except here there was no hero, only two heroines, we were only a few feet apart and it was outside the restaurant. But I did cry out 'XYZ I am going to miss you' just like in the movies, right before I bumped into her. And what a bump it was! Almost equivalent to the roar of thunder!

Just kidding, this is real life, not a Saas bahu series. There was no noise except for both of us saying oww! at the same time out of pain. No one would have even noticed it if it hadn't been for 3 of my extra smart friends who had it in for me right from the beginning. They were the ones who pointed out at us and started laughing. Next thing I know, everyone from my 15 member group was laughing at us and I had to make a quick bathroom excuse to escape.

      So you see, am truly in-adept at hugging. And this is not a one-off incident. Very recently, I helped one of my friends wear a sari for a function. Since it was an emergency the girl was really thankful and wanted to hug me at the end of it. So we both turned towards each other to hug, except neither of us could figure out which side to go, and we ended up bumping against each other not once, not twice, but thrice. Yeah am that bad at hugging! Incidents like these is what have fueled my irrational fear of hugging. Nowadays, whenever a person tries to hug me, I slyly turn so that my side is perpendicular to their face, indicating that I don't want to hug. The only option the person then has is to pat me on my back as I pull away happily. If ever there was a course to learn the art of hugging, I'd be the first customer (just kidding, am really broke. So if there is a course don't give me a call, I'll manage). Finally, all I can say is I hope I am not the only one with this inadequacy and there are others like me. If not, aah well, you guys can always pat me on my back as I turn to say goodbye!

Saying Goodbye

My best friend and childhood buddy, Mallika Kapur passed away on 9th October 2013. She was involved in a terrible bike accident on 17th September 2013, and struggled for her life in the ICU for 21 days. She was believed to have been recovering when her sudden demise happened and it came as a shock to all of us who were close to her. The below blog post is the series of events that I experienced after her sad demise and also a tribute to her and our memories together. May her soul rest in peace. She will always be remembered. Hope you have found a better and happier place Mallika. You struggled for a long time and didn't deserve any of this. I love you, and will love you always. Rest in peace sweetheart. My life will never be the same without you.

Its hard when a person you know passes away. Even if he/ she was just an acquaintance. It's harder when your pet dies. But when your best friend, your childhood buddy, your secret keeper passes away, what then? Its damn hard, and there's no words to describe the feeling.

First the shock sets in. You can't think of anything and your mind is blank. Then the tears start pouring down. You cry your heart out, till there's no tears left. Then you cry some more. Every thought is filled with her memory. The first time you saw her, and smiled. The first time she came and said hi and you reciprocated.Your first game, how you used to play house, barbie, bingo and housie, which then progressed on to truth & dare & taboo. Your first bicycle ride together, the time when you scraped your knees after a fall, and she helped you clean it gently, saying its okay, while you cried. The time when you were bullied and she stood up for you. Sharing your secrets about your crushes together, discovering fashion together. The way she taught you to be confident and bold in life, and to have a positive attitude. The way she always managed to know whenever you were upset and managed to make you feel better always. The way she took your side when you had fights with other friends. Every birthday, every Diwali, every Ganesh Chaturthi, every Navratri, every Holi and every other festival spent together. The night outs, the pajama parties, doing time pass at your usual hangout, watching movies together, being together when others ditched you and you had no company, crying yourself out on her shoulder after every misfortune, abusing the person who hurt you the most, together. Spending evenings together over a cup of coffee, gossiping about everyone, cos' you have nothing better to do. Every thought, every memory, every photo of you together or just her causes pain. More tears.

All you can think of is, why did it have to happen to her? She didn't deserve any of this. So young, so happy, so cheerful. Why couldn't it have been anyone else? Then the feeling of  helplessness sets in. Of  you not having been able to do anything. Of it not being in your hands to save her. The worst is the guilt. Of not being of any use to her parents, not even in support, cos' you had to return back to a different city to resume your life. Of not being able to resume your life anyway because while she is hanging on to dear life you can't think of returning back to normalcy, cos' it just doesn't feel right. But still having to resume cos' that's how it is. Wondering whether you could have done anything to save her. Wondering maybe if you'd been a little less involved in your own work, a little less happy, prayed a little more than what you did, bargained a little more with God to save her, maybe given up on your favorite food or fasted more or something, maybe it would have saved her. Then you blame God. How could he have done something like this to such a wonderful person like her? And why? Why her? Why not anyone else? Why were you given the chance to live while she was not? What set her apart? Rapists and murderers live donkey's years, while people like her live such short life spans. That makes you question the very existence of God. And there's no answer or solution to that either.

In the end you cry, you look at her photo with you and you cry, you reminisce a memory of her and you cry, and when no more tears come out, you sleep, hoping this was all just a bad dream, and you'd wake up and she'd still be there.When you wake up and that's not the case and the tears are on the verge of coming out, you know you can't keep doing this, you know you have to move on, even though it just doesn't feel right. You feel depressed, and when every time your friends try to cheer you up it feels wrong. You wonder if she's in a happy place, if she's in heaven, hoping she is if there's a heaven. You pray that her family gets the strength to deal with the situation. You feel guilty for not being with them. In the end, you wish you could find your happy place too, that she'd still be there and none of this would have happened. And you move on. Or at the least you try to. Because that's just how life is supposed to be.

On my 22nd b'day. One of our happier times together. Miss you Mallika.

Labels - Death of Individualism

It is so hard being a girl in a guy's world. You have no idea what all we have to go through. No am not going to talk about prejudices, gender biasing and feminism or worse - PMS. But what I am going to talk about is 'labeling'. Like being a girl wasn't enough, being labeled a tomboy is even worse! Why do you want to confuse us poor girls?

First and foremost, what constitutes a tomboy anyway? Who decides whether a girl is a tomboy or not? Oh so maybe some girls are adventurous, they like sports, hangout with guys, don't care about their looks, have no fashion sense, are a bit domineering, are generally manner-less, clueless about cleanliness, slightly sloppy, drink chilled beer at parties & crazy about football, so what? Whoever said a girl has to be neat, clean, pretty & decked up all the time, good at gossip, a good cook, a born fashionista, coy & shy, like everything pink, know all the cosmetic brands, a die-hard shopaholic and spend half her time & pocket money at parlors & spas getting expensive manicures and perms? Why can't a girl be a mix of both or neither? Whatever happened to individualism?

Ask any girl and am pretty sure she would say that she doesn't like being labeled a tomboy even if she wears t-shirts and jeans, doesn't do catwalk, likes playing & watching sports, wears sports shoes, sneakers & floaters instead of high (back breaking) heels, speaks her mind, doesn't know the meaning of coy and sits, walks and talks like a boy (in other people's words). The irony is guys feel the most comfortable hanging out with these very same girls and are generally best friends with them rather than with the 'stereotypical girl'. This is because they find them uncomplicated and quite like themselves. "She is easy to be friends with" is what most guys say. This is also what makes them label these girls as 'tomboys'. But when it comes to dating, the general consensus is, "oh her? well, she's more like my buddy. Rather more like myself (read guy), how can I date her?! Am sure she doesn't like guys. We are just best friends." Wow. Really wow.

And woe begone if your tomboy friend turns up dressed in a skirt, wearing makeup, with a fancy hairstyle and generally looking like..well a girl. How dare she?! Firstly, you wouldn't recognize her. When you finally do, you'd be shocked and loose your power of speech. And when you finally regain your speech & find your tongue you would start badgering her with questions like "what happened to you?! What have you done to yourself?! what is that hairstyle?! You in a skirt? Wait, is that makeup on your face? You are looking ridiculous! Go change. I can't be seen like this with you!" How nice. However, if the girl is lucky enough and the guy not blind enough, she'd be appreciated & complimented (See am not labeling you guys). But it is a rare case. Dear guys, and girls who think otherwise, a girl is a girl. Any girl, even if she generally prefers jeans over skirts, a natural look over makeup, shoes over heels, sports over gossip, and simplicity over complexity, she would still want to dress up once in a while and look pretty.

So why not let her be? Is it so hard to see her in a different light once in a while, and maybe just maybe, appreciate her and compliment her? Is it so hard to make her smile, to let her be happy, to let her be a girl without having to be confused about it? Why can't a girl retain her own unique qualities and be labeled an individual rather than say a tomboy, a blonde, dumb, pea brained etc. Am using the same terms that people generally use to stereotype, nothing new about it. Why label her and stereotype her? Why make her loose her confidence & ruin her life? Let her be. Let her be happy in her individuality. Let her be just a 'girl'.

In the shadows

People pass by without a glance. Some see me, and yet they don't see me. Some see through me. Some walk around in their own world. It's as if am not really there. I look at these people and try to guess their stories. That's my favorite pastime. Is she happy or sad? Is he having an affair? Is she thinking about her future child? Are they lovers or friends? Oh what an obnoxious kid, his mother should teach him some manners! Did his girlfriend just ditch him? Poor kid, he's an orphan, must be missing his parents. How did he lose all his money and become a drunkard? Was she abused by her husband?
So many stories. Some happy, some sad. Some that stay with me, while others are meant to be forgotten. Some I want to know more about, while others I wish I'd never seen or thought of. Some that make me smile, while others are so touching they bring tears to my eyes. Some that make me angry enough to want to do something about it and others that are normal enough to not warrant any reaction from me. I remain at my place, unnoticed by people, and I see many things. I have seen lover's tiff, friends quarrel, enemies fight. I have also seen lovers kiss, kids playing, friends laughing together and sharing jokes and happy moments with each other, families enjoying quality time, people saying goodbye, birthday parties and marriages. I have seen people being robbed, and people robbing others. I have seen murders happening, pranks being played and people being kind and helpful to each other. This is what I do. I watch things, I assimilate, I keep quiet about them, I understand, I think and I learn from them. I am the flower on the wall. You know me better as the wallflower.

The Ideal World

Sleep comes very rarely to me nowadays, but when it does, it feels like a retribution; a deliverance. I lie there, breathing heavily, in a state of half sleep; not sleeping, yet not fully awake; still trying to grasp the remnants of my dream, the one that made me happy, but not being able to remember. I lie there turning restlessly, eyes half closed, clinging to the last dregs of sleep, not wanting to wake up, relishing my last few moments of peace. I turn on my sides, with my arms stretched over him, only to meet thin air. That's when am jolted awake, by the heart wrenching physical pain, the mental realization of not having him near me. This realization shatters all dreams. I curl up in a fetal position, wanting to die, or at least go back to sleep. I could do anything to get out of this pain, to not face the day alone, anything to erase the memories, anything to not live this farce of a life. All I want to do is shut myself from everything and go to my happy place, the one where he's with me. But reality beckons, and so I have to wake up and go through the motions. Smile through my pain, to behave as if everything's normal, even though its far from the truth.

The truth is my world has shattered. My ideal world. Even saying it aloud makes me want to laugh in derision. The truth? There is no ideal world. Not for me, not for anyone else. It's just a make believe world that we have been deluding ourselves in to, to hide the fact that there's no such thing as constant happiness, the happily ever after. In an ideal world everyone would be happy. They'd be doing what they want to do, not caring what others think. They would be striving for exaltation, and not just living for the sake of living. But we know how that goes. In an ideal world there would be no crimes, no rapes, people wouldn't die of diseases, there would be no poverty, no wars, no jihad, no terrorism of any kind, no child abuse, no unemployment, no impoverishment. Every child would be educated, every child would have a chance to make something of themselves. Every person would have a chance to make choices and change their choices if they wish to, peer pressure be damned. Every person would find gainful employment and strive to better at it. Every person would find their one true love, their soul-mate, and there would be no divorces. There would be no political motives, no mind games. The ideal world would not be confused with utopia. 

In an ideal world, I'd be with him, and he'd be with me. In an ideal world, he'd be alive. We'd be ruling the world together, doing things we are so good at. All the responsibilities wouldn't just fall on my frail shoulders. We'd be making decisions together. I wouldn't be this lonely. In an ideal world, I'd be happy; we'd be happy. But, there is no ideal world. And so here I am, left to pick up the broken pieces of my life, to live whatever is left of it meaningfully, to try to go through the motions of life with conviction. I have to wake up, I have to live and I have to try and achieve this ideal world that every one talks about, that every one wants, but doesn't exist.

The invasion of the lyric killers!

Watched television recently? Or listened to the radio? If you have then you must now be humming the tune of  'you are my honey Bunny', or 'Chinta ta chita chita'. Whatever the hell it means. You my dear friend are witnessing and probably unknowingly aiding the invasion of the lyric killers. That's what I call them. They are those people, those composers who compose crap, package it in a catchy tune and let it loose on the innocent (or maybe stupid) public. This then starts a mass chain reaction. The innocent or possibly stupid public then decide that this is the best song of the century, sing it everywhere they go and make it difficult to live for the likes of me.

Kareena Kapoor gyrating to 'Fevicol Se'

People like me then have to live with listening to inane songs like 'you are my honey bunny toko toko'  or cheap ones like 'Chipkale saiyaan Fevicol se'. Do you know how hard that is? Wanting to punch someone singing such songs but not being able to? Very difficult. It makes me mad. It makes me want to tear my hair off. Rather tear your hair off. Okay, lets not get violent here. Keeping personal feelings aside, it makes me wonder what this generation has come to. Oh wait, my generation has come to. That's right. Am not some 40 + year old female going through a midlife crisis, blaming the world and the generation after me for everything that's wrong in my life. Nope. Am a young 23 year old female of the current 'hip and happening' generation, who is currently not very proud of her peers. With songs like these, anyone in their right mind wouldn't be.

But seriously, whats wrong with people nowadays? Whatever happened to writing songs that actually have lyrics in them as opposed to songs that just seem to be some random rhyming nonsensical sentences strung together? From songs like Ankho hi Ankho main, Naina Barse Rim Jhim, Yeh shaam mastaani and even recent ones like Dil toh pagal hai, Mohabatein, Suraj hua maddham, Alvida etc sung by the likes of Mohammed Rafi, Kishore Kumar, Lata Mangeshkar, Sonu nigam, Alka Yagnik, Shreya Ghoshal and composed/ written by greats like Lakshmikant Pyaarelal, Javed Akhtar, Jagjit singh, A R Rehman, Kishore Kumar etc to songs like 'Tera Pyar Hukka Bar', 'Sheila ki Jawani', 'Munni Badnaam hui', 'Billo Raani' etc, that's what the world has come to. I believe all these songs were written in a drunken state of stupor. There's no other explanation for it. After a melodious and glorious 80's the 90's brought with it a string of infamously memorable songs like choli ke peeche kya hai, tu tu tu tu tu tara, Nayak nahi Khalnayak hu main etc, and innumerable  other unbearable songs as well, which I am not going to take the pains of listing here. Point being, we thought the 90's was the worst period for Bollywood music, that is till the 2000's came. That's when all hell broke loose.

Katrina Kaif giving her thumkas in Chikni Chameli

 
We have had to live with the rickshawaala's favorite Himmesh Reshmiya's nasal songs, Atif Aslam's depressing songs, Anu Malik's really annoying songs, bad remixes of really good songs featuring Rakhi Sawant, and now Yo Yo Honey Singh glorifying rapes. Truly this generation has lived through it all.  It's like the return of the 90's but 3 times worse. Not just that, not only did all the above mentioned greats become widely popular among the general public, they actually became viral! Viral - Something that becomes popular through the process of Internet sharing, typically through video sharing websites, social media and email. Say's a lot about the current popular culture as a whole, and us in general, doesn't it? And sad to say Hollywood isn't any better in this regard. Justin Beiber, Rebecca Black, Psy, Miley Cyrus, Jonas Brothers, One Direction. Need I say anymore? My Dad always used to complain about 'aaj kal ke gaane' , and I always used to disagree and argue with him. With great regret I have to say that I now completely agree with his views.

It's not that this generation has no taste for music. Yes, songs like Jalebi bai, pritam pyaare, aa ante amlapuram, halkat jawaani have gone viral, but then so have soulful songs like Pani da rang, khoya khoya chaand, kahaani, ekla chalo re, tere siva etc. We have great upcoming singers and composers like Amit Trivedi, Ram Sampath, Rashid ali, Sona Mohapatra, Jonita Gandhi. Yes I know you all like Katrina Kaif 's jhatkas in Chikni Chameli and Kareena Kapoor's thumkas in Halkat Jawaani, and so these songs are not going to stop any time soon. All am saying is lets bring out more songs like Paani Da Rang, Jeelein Zaraa, Saibo, Yaariyaan which not only make sense but also have great music. Here's hoping to a better 2013 with more sensible, melodious and soulful songs. Till then all we can do is wonder 'Why this, why this Kolaveri Di?'
 

 

P.S. As a response to my blog post, I was directed to this video by @teodranik on twitter - The honey bunny parody song. HILARIOUS! Definitely worth a watch.

 

P.P.S. And another response to this blog post by a friend, this time through whatsapp. I was advised to listen to this morning bhajan everyday .. enjoy :p

Comfortably Numb

All it takes is that one drink. Clear chilled liquid passing down your throat, quenching your thirst. That warm hazy feeling afterwards. The bubble you don't want to break. Dream within a dream. Kaleidoscopic moments. Stars in the sky. Fireworks and star bursts. Giggles and laughter. Warm kisses and hot touches. Perpetual goosebumps. Trippy music and peaceful dances. Freedom and flight. Pink floyd Brings you back to life. Everything feels more alive. Every feeling is amplified. Every touch feels more real, yet dreamlike. The thin line between reality and fantasy blurs. You are falling in to a chasm and you are pulled back at the last moment. You are hanging from a cliff for dear life and suddenly you acquire wings. You are drowning, the world is closing around you and you are pulled out of the water. What is real, what is not? A thousand thoughts, always changing. Mad headrushes.

Memories rush by. Some happy, some sad. Others that make you want to kill yourself. Some proud moments, some regrets. Those are the clearest. The regrets. They never leave you, not for one moment. Not when you are sober, not when you are drunk. Like shards of ice. Piercing one moment, disappearing the next. Then the what if's and the what could have been's follow. Wistful feelings. Self introspection. Decisions made and decisions to be made. Confusion and clarity. Chaos and order. Light and darkness. Amidst all these, fleeting moments of happiness. Your first crush, your first kiss. The first time someone said I love you and you said it back. Happy childhood memories with your mom and dad. Morning prayers and good night kisses. Morning breakfasts and family dinners. The first day at school. Your first friend, and many more to come. The first time your dad said that he's proud of you. Your first vacation.  Small achievements and little worries. Little happy memories. You try and hold on to them and they slip away like sand. Letting go isn't an option. You need to feel its real, and not just dreams from the past. Better to live in the moment. Let life take its own shape. Go where it leads you. Take small steps. Live in the happiness, the freedom. Reminisce the good times, till the next drink comes. Pop a coin into the jukebox and let Pink Floyd make you comfortably numb.

Looking back and looking forward.

2012 is done and gone like a bad bout of flu and 2013 is here. So many things have happened in 2012, some good, some bad, some worth remembering, others that need to be forgotten.  Decided to still follow on my MBA dreams and they are still sucking the life out of me. Met with some road blocks while following that dream (still am). Made some new friends and lost them to geographic displacement. Lost some old friends to geographic displacement as well, because they decided to follow their dreams. Lost others because I was careless enough to let them go (working on rectifying this). Gained a new perception. Lived alone for a week, and managed the house without having to do a SOS call to the fire department ( note 1: Yes am 22 and my mom and dad are both scared of letting me live alone, fuck my life). Spent most of my savings on an awesome HP laptop, my first investment (and am still paying mom back in installments for it, 15 grand left :/). Tried new things, tried new drinks, tried new hairstyles. Acquired some habits, both good and bad (people's perception of bad, not mine), gave up some old ones. Enjoyed being everyone's agony aunt and then started hating it (mostly because I couldn't be my own agony aunt and couldn't find anyone else as good as me :p). Best of all went to Goa with my best friends, a first for me (refer note 1 above), loved every moment of it and dying to go back there again (hopefully soon if all goes well). Had a few crushes. Fell in love. Experienced true happiness for a while. Also experienced what true depression feels like. Struggled through it, still am. Gave up blogging for a while altogether and then returned back to it again (courtesy this post).

But mostly I grew a year older (yes I do it every year, though I don't look it). What I mean by that is I matured, I gained some experiences that are definitely going to help me in my future. And yeah I don't like growing old. Not because I am scared of death or something. I just don't. If there was an option whence I could reverse back time I would, and do a few things differently. So yes I have a few regrets. But alas, its only wishful thinking, I can't reverse back time to a happy period in my past or fast forward it to a happy period in my future and pause time forever in that moment. Life doesn't work like that. I can't stay 22 forever, I have to grow old even though I hate it, that's just life. Sad, but true. Anyway, before I digress any further, 2012 was a mixed bag of surprises, but it mostly wasn't great for me (at least career wise) , and it looks like 2013 isn't going to be either, if the last 20 days are anything to go by. But one can always hope. Like every year I decided not to make any new year resolutions this year as well since I never end up abiding them or keeping them. Infact I forget about them the next day itself and I end up trying to remember what resolutions I had made. So this year I decided to do something different. I have decided to put my list of resolutions here, so I don't forget them, I am reminded about them every time I open this page (which believe me is quite often), and also to call them 'guidelines for 2013' rather than resolutions. Now that sounds so much better. Following guidelines rather than adhering to resolutions. Smart, eh?

So here's the list I intend to follow:

1) Worry less. Yeah I am a worrier (not a warrior). A big one. I over think and over react to everything. I am no drama queen, but am close enough. I can spend days worrying about small things and give myself unbearable migraines. Generally the things I worry about end up in nothing. So its a huge waste of energy, not to mention stress. So this year I am going to try and worry less. I said 'try'.

2) Participate more. The other day I watched the movie 'The perks of being a wall flower'. In it Charlie the main character is advised to participate more in life by his professor Bill Anderson. That struck me as something I should do as well. I generally tend to take a casual approach to life, rarely push myself. I am a back seat driver, mostly observing, participating only when I have to.  And I know I can do better, cos I have done so before, during my college project, my college fest. So participate more in life, take stands, make decisions and stand by them, try out new things. And take risks, majorly, stop being a safe player.

3) Go back to being a cold heart-ed bitch. I was one once, and it served me well. Over the last year I have somehow changed, started opening myself up to people more, let my guards down, started trusting people more, forgiving people more, pretending less, being more honest, which I know you guys would think is a good thing, but trust me it isn't. Cos' am only opening myself to injury and heart break. I have been through it before, and I don't want to go through all that again, least of all now. The things I am going through, I recognize, are going to lead me through that well trodden, much disliked path again. To survive in this jungle I need to become my old self again. Stop being an open book. Stop believing that people have good intentions, and start believing that they are mean in general and self centered. Be self sufficient. Rely on others less. Chuck people from my life who are only there when they need me and never there when I need them. In short, live for myself. So yeah, bitch am back.

4) Do things that make me happy. Quit my job for starters (yes I am going to do it). Make an alternate career plan, if  nothing comes out of this. Be less depressed. Be more outgoing.  Rebel for my freedom (if need be, I really hate fighting and confrontations in general). Travel more, read more, watch more movies (from the IMDB top 250 list as usual), more TV series (not hindi ones, puhlease!), discover new places to eat, make new friends that share my interests, with whom I can discover these places. Go to more concerts, stand up shows and plays. Blog more. Like at least 3 times a month (so my this month's quota is done :D). Spend less time on social networking sites. Read economic times and the Hindu everyday, study everyday (not that it makes me happy, but it is essential for my survival). Take up quizzing for a hobby. Take guitar lessons, or salsa lessons, or start swimming, or do all the three (I have high ambitions). Save more money by shopping less (yeah even though it makes me happy, I really need to do this, darn). Have more conviction in myself and my dreams. Start believing that I can do it, even if it takes a hell lot of time. And most of all, not take people that are closest to me for granted. Especially not for any one person. Make sure, my support system stays strong.

5) Last but not the least, gain weight! Yeah its high time now. Being slim is so passé. I want to have those chubby cheeks again, so that ponds will take me for their googly woogly woksh advert. Just kidding. But yeah, gain weight I must. I will succeed one day! There will be more meat on by bones. Sigh, I can always dream.

Well, I can list more of these never ending guidelines, but like I said they are never ending, me being a flawed person. And this much is enough for one year, I'll chart out the rest in 2014 ;-) Here's hoping 2013 will be better for me than 2012 was, that I meet success in my endeavors, in my career, in my love life, in my friendships, in my family relationships, in everything. Here's hoping that I will follow these guidelines. Here's hoping that I'll get rich and gain weight (two most impossible tasks). And here's hoping you all will too (gain weight as well :p) . Cheers!

That feeling.

Ever felt like running away? Just being covert, packing a bag, getting in to a cab and taking off? Not knowing where, but wanting to give in to that feeling of escaping everything, the mundane realities, the insane stress, the life sucking problems, the fake well wishers, the selfish do-gooders and most of all the people you love, and who truly love you. Not caring about anything, anyone, not even yourself, just stopping your thoughts, pausing your feelings, and walking off from everything. No notes, no phone calls, nothing. You'd have a chance to start somewhere afresh. No one knows you, so you can be anyone. No one knows your past, so no one is going to judge you. No one loves you, so there will be no expectations, no feeling of being suffocated, of being pushed in to becoming someone you are clearly not, and don't want to be either. No restrictions, your life in your hands, and finally, you'd truly have the chance to make something of it by yourself, without any interference. Once in a while you can send postcards to the people you love, so they'll know that you are alive and well. How wonderful would that be? If only it were so easy.

They make it seem so easy in the movies. People just pack their bags and take off without a backward glance. A few tears rolling down their face, flashback memories from the past, and bam! They are in a plane, off to a new life where they go on to change their destiny and become billionaires, find true love etc. Oh how very dramatic! As if saying good bye was that easy. As if 23 years of memories would just disappear, the bad ones, sad ones and happy ones. As if you can ever forget everything, stop worrying about the people you love, only care about yourself and just move on. Live like a hippie, or climb the corporate ladder, visit remote scenic destinations or become a Buddhist disciple and live an austere life, go sky diving or skinny dipping, go to the Himalayas and scream your lungs out or go to the Antarctic and live under the aurora borealis. Yeah how wonderful, and how very unrealistic. No it's not that easy. If it was you'd be doing it. I'd be doing it, instead of writing about it and trying to suppress this feeling of wanting to run away, in to the wild, in to the unknown. Lets face it, we are too scared. We hate change and like to be grounded. We want everything handed to us on a plate. We know everything is not like in the movies, life isn't hunky dory. After we get on a plane there would be a whole new life to plan for, a whole new setting to worry about, and maybe worse hardships will follow. We do not like this uncertainty, and we are scared of failing again, and this time with no loved ones to support us, no friends who have our backs. So no, running away is not for us. Good bye is never easy.

Kapde nahi, Soch Badlo! (Change your attitude, not our clothes)

29th December, 2012. A grave day for the nation. The Delhi gang rape case victim succumbed to her injuries early today morning in Singapore. May her soul rest in peace. The whole country is in mourning. The protests continue. While conspiracy theories have been floating around regarding the reason for her being transported to Singapore, the government has been busy ensuring that no further untoward happenings occur by closing down the metro and other means of transport. A lot has been said and done in the last two weeks over the Delhi gang rape case, let me put in my 2 bit worth of opinion as well. We have all seen the students protesting at the India Gate, Jantar Mantar and other places, the Delhi police's shameful conduct towards them, the derogatory comments being passed on by worthless people dying for their 2 minutes of attention on prime time television. The whole week has been a media furore, with Arnab Goswami on Times Now leading the brigade.

The whole sensationalism started with Mr Abhijit Mukherjee, son of our current president Mr. Pranab Mukherjee, commenting on the student protestors at delhi, stating that, "These pretty women, dented and painted, who come for protests are not students. I have seen them talk on the television, usually women of that age are not students." He further went on to add that students going to discotheques think its fashionable to hold candles and protest. Dear Mr. Mukherjee, since when did you get a degree in psychology to comment on what people think? Also how is it relevant whether these women are students or not. If they aren't it just goes to show that the whole country is up in arms against your government and not just the students. Even if they aren't students, they are women. The same women who cannot walk on the streets in any part of our 'Incredible India' without fearing rape, be it day or night. The same women who are cursing their luck for being born as women in this patriarchal country where the people in power are so insensitive towards their issues. The same women who voted your father's government to power when he wasn't India's president. Dear sir, whoever said its okay for you to make such comments and then retract them at your convenience only because your PR agent advised you that its the best course of action to save your unworthy ass? No sir, its definitely not okay. If you cannot contribute any positive inputs towards this issue, atleast do not degrade our efforts by making such derogatory negative comments. You, son of the first citizen of India, son of the same president who pledged to protect the rights of every other citizen, including women, should know better than to say such worthless things on Television. Shame on you!

The second foot in mouth moment came when a certain Dr. Anita Shukla, an agricultural scientist at the Rajmata Vijayaraje Scindia Krishi Vishwa Vidyalaya, while addressing a seminar on 'Women’s Empowerment' (ironically)  in her capacity as the president of Lion’s Club on Wednesday, stated that women had misused the facilities and rights given to them. The rape victim's injuries were her own fault, she said. She further stated, "Had the girl simply surrendered when surrounded by six men, she would not have lost her intestine. Why was she out with her boyfriend at 10 pm?" Really? I haven't heard a more outrageous statement ever! I was as horrified as you are after hearing this. So we  are supposed to just lie there and take pleasure in the fact that 5-6 men are raping us all the while inserting rods, and god knows what else, inside us just to satiate their sadistic nature? I hope for your daughter's sake Mrs. shukla (I am assuming you are married and have a daughter, though I actually hope you don't in reality), that she never gets raped. You wouldn't be so eager to dole out such deplorable advice then, would you? What the victim was doing at 10 pm in the night with her boyfriend is irrelevant and none of your goddamn business. If you noticed she wasn't raping or murdering someone. Our's is a free democratic country and no where is it written in our constituition that women cannot roam on streets at 10 pm in the night, alone or otherwise. You being a woman, rather than fighting for our cause, fighting for our rights, rather than empathizing with us, you make such atrocious comments. You are a disgrace to our whole race and your own profession. Shame on you!

What takes the cherry on the cake is CPM leader Mr. Rahman's derogatory comments towards Mamta Banerjee at a rally which ended with him asking the question, "How much will Didimoni take for getting raped?" This coming from a supposedly senior leader of a government party against a chief minister. If someone like the chief minister cannot escape the mindlessness of such disdainful comments, how can we, the common woman, even expect otherwise? But that isn't all. Mamata Banerjee's government isn't very far behind in this race of shame.When the park street rape incident was first reported in the media in february, Chief Minister Mamata Banerjee described the case as a fabrication constructed to embarrass her government. And just yesterday a MP from the Trinamool Congress party, Dr. Kakoli Ghosh said that the park street case wasn't a rape case, it was a misunderstanding between the victim and her 'client'. Shocking! My heart goes out to the victim who besides having to deal with the mental and physical wounds constituting from the rape, also has to hear herself being degraded and indirectly being called a whore on national television. Way to go Dr. Kakoli Ghosh! Can you for a few moments please place yourself in the victim's shoe and understand what she's gone through before opening your mouth to spout shit? No? Aah very well, congratulations then.You just joined the list of disgrace along with Mr Abhijit Mukherjee, Dr. Anita shukla and several others. Shame on you!

Incredible India, my ass! After all this how can we even blame the 18 year old Patiala gang rape case victim for committing suicide? Who wouldn't? Though am sure as hell not justifying suicide. What saddens me the most is the fact that half of these comments have been made by women. This just shows the mindset of the people in our country. Not just the men, but even the women. Ours being a Patriarchal society, we have been brought up with a strict set of old school rules and mindset. This has somehow led us to think that getting raped is the fault of the victim. How can you justify rape by putting the blame on the victim for wearing short clothes or staying out till late? We have all seen that women get raped even during the day, even when they are fully clothed and even when they are accompanied by someone. What do they do then? Lock themselves in their rooms throughout their lives? Surely if people had brought their children up with a freer set of rules, an open mindset, and helped them develop a conscience, we would definitely have not come to see this day. Finally it all comes down to education, the need of the hour. We need to start at the grass roots before aiming big and starting large revolutions. We need to change our own mentality, our own ethos. We need to develop a conscience.

We want freedom. We want a country where we can roam around at at any time of the night wearing any kind of clothes without fearing rape. We want a country where our parents do not restrict us from going out late at night, where they do not allow us to wear shorts, just because they are scared that we will get raped. We want a country where we won't be called whores for wanting to do all the above things. Let us hope that all this is possible. Let us start believing that there's no excuse for rape whatsoever and that its never the victim's fault. Teach your kids to respect women, teach them to behave, teach them to change their attitude. Unless this issue is addressed we cannot expect rapes to stop inspite of harsh punishments. And yes, harsh punishments are needed. Castration, public humiliation, death penalty, fast track courts and more should be brought into immediate effect by the government. Remember, with great power comes great responsibility. Now is not the time to be squeamish. The governments needs to take aggressive steps to achieve all this and more if it wants to remain in power and even otherwise. For once stop thinking about your bloody vote banks! If not, expect your government to be toppled sooner than later. After all, We are the world's largest democracy, aren't we? Of the people, For the people, By the people. Lets not forget that. Till then let the protests continue. Let this revolution change India!

Late Night Gyan

So its 12 am in the night, and I have nothing better to do then ramble here. Hell, what does it matter, this place has been dead since so long anyway. Its just one of those times when you have too much stuff going on in your head, you cannot concentrate on the stuff in hand, and you get the most persistent urge to revive your blog. But for want of a blog post. Yes its one of those times. But then I believe there's always some or the other thing to write, some or the other thing to share. You see the human mind cannot stop thinking. There's no silent moment, however much you may long for it, however much you may want it. There's no single moment, not even a microsecond, where all that's going on in your head is a weird blank buzz, like that of a non working idiot box or a radio station you are trying to tune. That's just a myth made up by Russell Peters to sell his show, and by the rest of the guys so that they don't have to answer the perpetual question asked by their female counterparts, "so what are you thinking?" They just want to hoodwink us in to thinking that they don't really think. So don't you ever believe them when they say that. I mean how can it even be possible? If that's true then they have all achieved Nirvana without even trying for it. And am a millionaire sailing on my yacht on my own private beach in Goa. Right. So moving forward...  We know better then that. We humans think a lot but we don't want others to know about it. We don't want to share it until we have killed ourselves going on and on over every single detail in our mind.  Every decision we make is thought a thousand times over. Round and round. We think and we think till it festers our mind and starts giving us a headache, or worse still, until it depresses us. That's when we decide that there's no way out and it would be the right time to share. That's when we spit out everything to our better halves, or our friends, or sometimes even to a stranger sitting next to you at a bar. Things are so much simpler with a beer in your hand, I have seen. Or it might go the other way around. When we decide that there's no way out and pop some pills. I wouldn't advise that. Dark thoughts them. Better yet, call a helpline.

If only we'd stop killing ourselves with so much thinking. If only every decision we made was on a whim, a hunch. Its not like we'd be sure of the decision any way. If only we had it in us to risk our future on whims. The world would have been so much... Well I don't know what the world would have been like, but it would surely be different. And sometimes different is good. If only we'd share our thoughts and feelings with others more. If only we'd be a little less uptight and a little more forgiving. A little less suspicious, a little more trustful. Or better yet, if only we had someone else to make all the decisions for us. Like when we were kids. Actually, if only we never grew up! Now that's just wishful thinking on my part. Told you, we humans think a lot. And that's never going to change. A blog post is not going to change that. So much for my late night gyan. Time to give my brains some rest. Good night all.

A Silent Cry

*The following story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to a real person, living or dead, is purely coincidental.*


The shower was on. She was sitting on the stool, with the shower in her hand & hot water running over her body. The water was like a soothing balm to all the small aches in her body. Making her feel calm and serene. A fog had formed around her. She could almost have gone to sleep. There were very few personal moments such as these where she could just relax and be happy in herself. Not caring, not worrying, not wondering about anyone else in the world but herself. No responsibilities, no thoughts about the future. Just living in the moment. But time was running out. Other more important matters were pressing on her mind. There was never a moment of peace. Her time was not her own.


She got up to finish her bath. But something felt very wrong. There was an uneasiness in her mind. She started feeling extremely hot and thirsty. Her legs turned to jelly, beyond her control. The world started spinning. A thought sprang to her mind, it must be dizziness that she was experiencing. She had never experienced it before, so she thought it would pass. She sat down for a few minutes with her head down and eyes closed. Willing herself back to normalcy. A few moments passed, she opened her eyes, the world had stopped spinning. She splashed some cold water on herself. She felt a bit better again. But there was now an urgency to finish her bath and to get out of that place. Solace was not welcome any more. She wanted to be in the refuge of company.


She got up again and turned the shower on. She tried to hurry. But the dizziness returned. This time it was worse. She felt numb. She tried to shout for help, but no words would come out. She felt suffocated. She tried to find some order in her chaos. But none would come. As a last desperate attempt at fighting against her demons she tried to sit, blindly. And finally she lost her consciousness.


A burst of pain in her nose woke her up to the world. All she could see was darkness. A touch to the nose indicated that she was bleeding. She heard people shouting. She realized it must be for her. Out of the many voices she heard her mother's voice very clearly, bringing her a sense of hope. She shouted for her mother. And slipped in to unconsciousness again.


Minutes passed. The next time she woke up, she still couldn't see anything. She felt unreal. She had no sense of time, of anything. She heard her mother again, a beckon of hope. Her mother was telling her to open the door. She had the sense of  struggling to open the door. But her memory was playing tricks with her. She did not remember getting up to open the door. But that did not matter. All that mattered was that the door was now open. The next thing she knew, her mother was helping her in to her clothes, and carrying her. She did not know where. Her eyes were open, but she could not see. Her hands were hanging limp. Her body was paralyzed. Her mother, was saying something to her, she could not hear. She felt wet. She felt ice being applied to her nose. She was shivering. Suddenly her vision returned, though she still could not speak. She was bleeding heavily through her nose and forehead. She had taken a knock to her teeth. Her lips were cut and swollen. The pain was unbearable. She could not even try to speak. She felt helpless, scared. She started crying silently. She knew that her mother was scared, but still she was determinedly calm and methodical. That gave her hope. She forgot that she was still crying. Her mother hugged her tenderly. That gave her life. In that moment she felt love and peace. Her nightmare was over.

To believe or not to believe?!

When we were kids, we had utmost and irrevocable faith in our parents. They were our role models, there was no one else better than them. And so we tried to imitate them. We wanted to be like them. Their word was the final word, iron clad. We simply couldn't and wouldn't believe in anything else. They told us to pray, we prayed. They told us to be good, we tried to be good. They told us to believe in god, we believed in god without a second thought, even though we didn't fully understand the concept of 'GOD'. We believed in every truth, story, fable, lie, order they gave us, because we didn't know any better. As we grew up, we started questioning these beliefs naturally. We started rebelling against orders, fought against lies, believed our own opinions to be true and started creating our own fables. It is but nature, how God has made us, we are not at fault. But old habits die hard, the seeds sown when young still hold their roots even if the tree has grown and wilted.We retain a part of what we were taught in the childhood. Our conscience questions our rebellious nature, a part of us still wants to meekly believe and sometimes we take the easy way out by believing instead of questioning.

My mother is a pious woman. She has unconditional devotion towards God. In her own way she tried to inculcate these very qualities in me, when I was but a kid. And since I saw her as my role model, I had utter faith in her, I believed in her, listened to her, tried to do as she told me to do. She believes in Sri Sathya Sai Baba. She told me to believe in him. She told me he's a God, and I believed her then. I believed he was a God, I prayed to him, I asked him for wishes, as children usually do. As I grew up, my belief didn't change, even though I no longer needed to blindly believe what my mother said and always agree with her. Call it my blind faith, call it superstition, call it my innocence or whatever. But I had my own reasons to believe. Of course the intensity of my belief was directly proportional to how big a mess I was in at the time (Yes, I wouldn't call myself pious in any sense).

Just recently Sri Sathya Sai Baba died at the ripe old age of 85, and as is in the case of people who are always in the limelight and who leave behind a lot of money in trusts, controversies followed. Many people started debasing him on the various social networking websites, newspapers and other media. Many videos were released showing him to be a fake, how he cheated people in his miracles etc. Other controversies started about the money he's left behind in the trust, about who will head the trust after Baba's demise and so on. All these people fail to remember that Sri Sathya Sai Baba, maybe he's not a god, but he sure did a lot of charity work for the people all around the world & not just in India. His trust supports a variety of free educational institutions, hospitals, and other charitable works in over 166 countries. Whatever money he obtained from the devotees was ultimately used in their own betterment through these very educational institutions and hospitals. He preached spiritualism, meditation, good karma, sanatana dharma (All God's are one) and purity in human values and character. He was an Indian guru, spiritual figure, philanthropist, and educator. He used the better part of his life in influencing people spiritually. He did not do any sort of harm to other people. He did not preach jihad or murder. He's no Osama Bin Laden or Dawood Ibrahim. He tried to influence people to become good human beings.

So maybe he's not a God, he definitely is a better Human being than us lot. Instead of belittling him, wouldn't it serve us better to give him credit for his good work? After all that's what humanity is all about. Remember Jesus Christ? And how he was treated when he was alive? Now they believe him to be the son of God. Maybe he is, maybe he's not. But he was a spiritual guru too, he worked for the well being of others, he preached peace, non violence and spiritualism and look how he was crucified for his teachings. History shows that we human beings cannot be trusted, we make mistakes. But we should also learn from these very mistakes instead of repeating them. Don't believe in Sri Sathya Sai Baba, don't believe in Jesus Christ, but give them credit for the good that they have done instead of blaspheming their name. They may or may not be God, but they are human beings as long as they are on earth and its up to us to follow their good teachings.

I for myself, still believe Sri Sathya Sai baba's teachings. Like I said old habits die hard. Maybe I am not that pious, I am still young, I have yet to see the world, am too attached to materialistic pleasures. But I also do believe in his teachings of spiritualism, good karma and sanatana dharma. There is only one God, pray to Ganesha, Jesus, Vishnu, Buddha or Allah. Ultimately its your faith that matters.

Book Review :

Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë


My rating: 4 of 5 stars




I remember when I first started this book, I was in school, possible 12-13 years of age. It did not appeal to me then, in fact I read the first part of the book (wherein Jane is in Lowood and applies for the governess position and leaves for Thornfield) and gave up reading it altogether. The language was beyond me, the plot very slow and dragging. The only reason I had even picked it up for reading was because its a classic, and I love classics. So now here I am after 9 years, rating the same book, with a considerably high rating, reason? A friend of mine rated this book with 4 starts on good reads, which piqued my curiosity and I took it up for reading again. Have to say am relieved and quite thankful that I did!


A genius of a book, a truly epic novel, one of the best classic love stories (by my opinion). Though the character of Jane Eyre has been given too many genial qualities (except for her physiognomy), which is nigh impossible to perceive and probably the biggest fault of the story. Then again, the story would have taken different directions if Jane Eyre had been characterized with discernible faults, and I doubt that would have been agreeable to us readers. The plot does drag sometimes, and like all English novels of those times, the surroundings described are quite dreary and unappealing (unless you like dark haunted mansions, damp dreary marshes etc) which does put a damper on one's mood. But right when you'd want to give up reading and throw the book away, Bronte brings out a rather small and likable twist which makes you want to continue reading the book again. That's the redeeming quality of the book and the reason for my 4 stars.


Also am a big Jane Austen fan, and Bronte's way of telling the story quite appealed to me. The story may appear to be like a fairy tale with a happy ending, but here again Bronte proved herself different by not making the story 'just another romance novel', by ending it with some elements that are certifiably sad yet likeable. But for all its merits, the book requires patience, and read it only if you are in to classics, romance and have loads of patience stored.


PS. Please do not read it when you are in school, unless you are a genius yourself.






View all my reviews

Be a Human

Live for today,
for tomorrow is not yet known.


Dream a little,
cos' dreams make life worth living.


Make a wish,
someone might just hear you.

Believe in yourself,
believe that you are made for greatness.


Make some mistakes,
for you have yet to learn.


Learn to forgive,
become the greater person.


Inspire others,
for they might be on their last shreds of hope.


Make some friends,
you will need them in your life.


Show some kindness,
your actions do unto you.


Care for others,
cos' caring makes you human.


Make others smile,
their smiles are unspoken blessings.


Show some love,
love is all that you live for.


Be a Human,
because that's what you have been born for.

6 Important Life Lessons

Okay I copied this, but it was too good to pass on


Lesson 1: Naked Wife
A man is getting into the shower just as his wife is finishing up her shower when the doorbell rings. The wife quickly wraps herself in a towel and runs downstairs. When she opens the door, there stands Bob, the next door neighbor. Before she says a word, Bob says, “I’ll give you $800 to drop that towel.” After thinking for a moment, the woman drops her towel and stands naked in front of Bob.
After a few seconds, Bob hands her $800 dollars and leaves. The woman wraps back up in the towel and goes back upstairs. When she gets to the bathroom, her husband asks,…
“Who was that?” “It was Bob the next door neighbor,” she replies. “Great!” the husband says, “Did he say anything about the $800 he owes me?”


Moral of the story:
If you share critical information pertaining to credit and risk with your shareholders in time, you may be in a position to prevent avoidable exposure.




Lesson 2
A sales rep, an administration clerk, and the manager are walking to lunch when they find an antique oil lamp. They rub it and a Genie comes out. The Genie says, “I’ll give each of you just one wish” “Me first! Me first!” says the administration clerk. “I want to be in the Bahamas, driving a speedboat, without a care in the world.” Poof! She’s gone. “Me next! Me next!” says the sales rep. “I want to be in Hawaii,relaxing on the beach with my personal masseuse, an endless supply of Pina Coladas and the love of my life.” Poof! He’s gone. “OK, you’re up,” the Genie says to the manager. The manager says, “I want those two back in the office after lunch.”


Moral of the story: Always let your boss have the first say.




Lesson 3
A priest offered a lift to a Nun. She got in and crossed her legs, forcing her gown to reveal a leg. The priest nearly had an accident. After controlling the car, he stealthily slid his hand up her leg. The nun said,”Father, remember Psalm 129?” The priest removed his hand. But,changing gears, he let his hand slide up her leg again. The nun once again said, “Father, remember Psalm 129?” The priest apologized “Sorry sister but the flesh is weak.” Arriving at the convent, the nun went on her way. On his arrival at the church, the priest rushed to look up Psalm 129. It said, “Go forth and seek, further up, you will find glory.”


Moral of the story: If you are not well informed in your job, you might miss a great opportunity.




Lesson 4
A crow was sitting on a tree, doing nothing all day. A rabbit asked him,”Can I also sit like you and do nothing all day long?” The crow answered: “Sure, why not.” So, the rabbit sat on the ground below the crow, and rested.
A fox jumped on the rabbit and ate it.


Moral of the story: To be sitting and doing nothing, you must be sitting very high up.




Lesson 5: Power of Charisma
A turkey was chatting with a bull “I would love to be able to get to the top of that tree,” sighed the turkey, but I haven’t got the energy.” “Well, why don’t you nibble on my droppings?” replied the bull. “They’re packed with nutrients.” The turkey pecked at a lump of dung and found that it gave him enough strength to reach the lowest branch of the tree. The next day, after eating some more dung, he reached the second branch. Finally after a fourth night, there he was proudly perched at the top of the tree. Soon he was spotted by a farmer, who shot the turkey out of the tree.


Moral of the story: Bullshit might get you to the top, but it wont keep you there.




Lesson 6
A little bird was flying south for the winter. It was so cold the bird froze and fell to the ground into a large field. While he was lying there, a cow came by and dropped some dung on him. As the frozen bird lay there in the pile of cow dung, he began to realize how warm he was. The dung was actually thawing him out! He lay there all warm and happy, and soon began to sing for joy. A passing cat heard the bird singing and came to investigate. Following the sound, the cat discovered the bird under the pile of cow dung, and promptly dug him out and ate him.


Moral of the story:
1. Not everyone who shits on you is your enemy
2. Not everyone who gets you out of shit is your friend
3. And when you’re in deep shit, it’s best to keep your mouth shut!