To Be Or Not To Be Human.

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I have fallen into the habit of keeping a Google News tab open on my laptop every day, choosing to read the daily news update as I get to the mails for the day. This morning, however, turned out to be quite depressing!

The top news trending on Google News was about the death of a HUMAN who was left on the roads to bleed to death after being hit by another HUMAN. If that wasn’t enough, a rotten, stinking, lousy mushed tomato of a man actually stole the victim’s phone and made off.

Accident Victim Bleeds To Death On Road In Delhi, Gets His Phone Stolen But No Help

If that wasn’t enough, video grabs showed that the hit-and-run driver did stop his vehicle and alight from it; but only to check the stupid, God-damned vehicle which is totally valueless in comparison to a human life.

And that is not how you want to start your day.

But how I end it is still my choice (well, almost, always. Unless you have some other blighted idiot choosing to trend on the world news). So I choose #Mission500K.

ThinkQuisitive  has collaborated with the Robin Hood Army this Independence Day to feed over 5 million people from India and Pakistan (In your face you country-splitters)!  They require your time and also your money (Let’s be practical, they will require contributions).

For a country hitting global news for leaving men to die alone on the roads, let’s get out on to the roads to feed people living there. And though #RHAKolkata does it every day, for one day let’s be a part of their team and make a difference to our own lives.

I will leave you to choose if you want to end your day better than I started mine. #TQThoughts coming up :

Event Page : https://www.facebook.com/events/1257273490950810/

Music Video Link : https://www.facebook.com/robinhoodarmy/videos/1812778005621205

Newspaper article : http://indiatoday.intoday.in/story/vishal-dadlani-farhan-akhtar-uday-benegal-robin-hood-army-india-pakistan/1/735843.html

Graciously Yours!

 

The Past Week.

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Considering I am writing this post half-asleep, ignore any errors that creep through, deliberately or not.

And now the question is why am I half-asleep halfway through the day?

Because I have traveled over 1500 kilometers over the past week.

Because I’ve put band aids on hurt toes to continue walking in damned new heels!

Because I have packed, repacked, unpacked at least four times in the last seven days!

Because I have slept in five different beds in those number of days.

Because I spent more awake hours in Bangalore traffic day before than  I slept in the night.

Because my kitchen is packed in boxes and my combs stashed with shoes, clothes buried under toiletries and phone charger all but lost.

Because I was searching for an apartment to sleep in at 2 AM, blankets in hand, friend by side, giggles the only sound and the winds our long time companion!

Because my leg is cramping, hands typing and mind fogging!

Hope to have weirded you out by now,

Graciously Yours!

P.S. : Please don’t ask ‘how are you’!

THOUGHT FLASH #5

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It has been heard that 5 years ago, Mamata Banerjee won the West Bengal CM elections by painting the ruling Left Party and their debt ridden decisions in ‘red’, much of which was not exactly unwanted.

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The Republican Convention seemed quite similar in how Trump was being backed, not because he was good, but because Hilary was (apparently) bad. If the people of USA keep getting swayed such, they might even ‘trump’ the mistakes which we Calcuttans made!

Good luck, America. You need it.
Good luck, World! We need it even more.

Graciously Yours!

P.S.: I wish I could have said I made those memes, but I did not. I am still working on my humour clogs.
[Update – P.P.S.: Hilary Rodham Clinton, you are a ray of hope in the vastness of bleak!]

In Other News.

We’ve known for a while that journalism hasn’t really been improving it’s standards but today I will not be blaming them.

In other news, that’s what the world was up to. In other words, that’s what was trending!

Pokemon Go – Because Candy Crush outlived its fifteen seconds of fame!

Every second person I know, whether gaming freaks or not, whether or not they know that there are 151 Pokemons, whether they can say the names of even ten or not, they will be playing the latest app rage that is Pokemon Go!

USA has more Pokemon Go downloads than Tinder. Pokemon Go has more Google search than porn (which is good, actually! But, is it?) Pokemon Go walks are being organised. And memes are already in place!

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Pubic Hair Dress – sometimes things get a little too hairy to be waxed.

Yes, because clothes are passe! Who wants fabric to cover their body when they can get hair? And that too pubic hair! Dream come true *sarcasm*

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I wonder how the lady in the picture agreed to wear that remarkable piece of imagination.

And by the way, when I first read this piece of news I gagged on nothing but my own saliva! And eating? Eating food was a long way off while trying to recover from the shock! Just saying. You might want to give yourself time.

Oh and what’s on the top of your head? Oh, just some hair! Too soon? 😉

Ramdev Baba – India’s brand ambassdor for Yoga, NOT!

You taught us Yoga? Good. You taught us different ways to breathe? Good. You got into our homes at 5 in the morning to give life advices? Good. You entered politics? Whatever. You tried to ban Maggi? #LifeIsACircle!  You started selling hair oil to flour to noodles? Don’t give a dime of thought to you. But then you went ahead and did this :

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Need I even say any thing?

Huma Mobin – the lady who rocked her ‘honeymoon’. Alone!

Meet Huma, a lady who had to go on a vacation without her husband and she came back with pictures that broke the internet! She brought Pakistan into the news and for once the world was smiling! Thank you, Ma’am! 🙂

Also, she went to Greece. Thank you for helping Greek tourism. They can do with whatever they get.

Signing off,

Graciously Yours!

Bloodied Hell.

Theresa sat across the table from her boyfriend, Brandon. She lightly patted his hands. She looked at them. His nails were chipped, chewed at in places. There were patches of blue around his nails. She looked up at him and then looked away. She needed to be sure.

“Will you now tell me where have you been all these days? Or am I still being too clingy? You need more space?” Theresa asked, looking at the blank wall on her right. She didn’t want to look him in the eye, to show him that she was afraid and weak. Not at this point.

“Oh come on, love. You know I like my freedom. But that doesn’t mean it’ll change my love for you. Well, as long as you believe in me, I know I can make it,” Brandon said, smiling at her. He wished she’d look her in the eyes. He needed her right now and he needed her fast and close.

“Oh, someone is being charming!” she said suddenly, angry that he took her for granted.

“Someone is being cocky,” he said, surprised at her sudden change in body language.

“You used to be charming. Now you no longer are charming. And I no longer concerned. You’re like all the others now. In fact, you’re worse. Because you were once better than all of them. But now? No. No longer.” She looked him straight in the eye as she said it. She was sure he was hiding something.

“You have so much to say about me? What about you? What do you have to say about yourself?”

“What about me?” Theresa asked, waiting for him to let out steam.

“You put yourself on the pedestal like you’re someone special. To reach out to you we have to be special and different. But that is only from your eyes. If you see the world from our eyes, you’re no different from all other girls who like to lure guys in, to make them believe that they’re the one and then drop us like hot potatoes when they see us for who we really are.” She did not expect this! Steam it was, but the wrong one.

“You really want to pick this fight right now? You think I am dropping you like a hot potato? I have been a part of your life for the past four years now. Or is it five?” she asked, thumping her fist on his open palm. He grunted in surprise, more from the suddenness of it than the power behind it.

“But you? I just remember shades of you moving in and out of my life for your own pleasure and in your own time. I shouldn’t have ever picked you up in the first place.” She was now standing. She had tears of anger in her eyes.

“Hey. Hey. I get it. Don’t cry! I was just kidding around with you. I am sorry. You know we’re going to be fine. Come on, baby.” Brandon was trying to get her back before things went too far.

“Don’t baby me!” she wanted to scream. But to him, sitting there in his orange overalls, to wipe out that smile which had floored her once, she said, “Whatever you may think of me and I may think of you, the fact is – you have blood on your hands and I do not.”

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She saw his face going white. Her words had had the desired effect. She smiled.

“I think it’s time we made a clean break from our relationship and move on. And while you are at it, you might as well find yourself a new lawyer.”

Graciously Yours!

Pool of tears.

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She sat by the shore. The cold water rhythmically wet her toes now and again. Some more and then no more. She inched closer to the water. She sadly stared out at the man in the water, helplessly flailing his arms around. She wished she could help him. But she’d just come out of the water for him. She’d tried dragging him to the banks. She’d tried calling out for help. She’d tried hauling him over herself. But after a while, there’s nothing she could do. She saved herself from drowning. That is all she could do. He didn’t want to be saved. Yet he wanted to live.

“Let me please help you,” she cried out. She pushed her drenched hair out of her eyes. Sand was stuck on her wet palms and legs. He didn’t reply. He struggled without making a sound. He didn’t cry out for help. Her dress was soaked. It clenched to her contours. She was breathing heavily. She was struggling to breathe as he was struggling to die. She dug her fingers in the sand and dried leaves around. She sobbed uncontrollably. Her lungs were searing with pain.

She looked up after a while. There was no one in sight. The water was rippling in the middle. The waves were becoming smaller. They would soon die. Just as he had. She stared at the water. Her tears were drying up. After a while, she got up, turned around and left.

She couldn’t kill herself over him. If she did that, his death would be a waste. After all, he had just killed himself over his love. She couldn’t repeat his mistakes.

Graciously Yours!

A Suitable Boy.

A suitable boy – now we know what defines a boy, but what defines suitable exactly? A boy who loves you passionately but is from another religion by birth is unsuitable? A boy who believes in pursuing his passion for writing over his profession of law is unsuitable? Or a boy with whom none of the girl’s choices, views, and even interests match while also being torn over another female whom he couldn’t marry is suitable? And why?

Well, for starters, no, I am not getting married or being appraised by future mother-in-laws. This is the result of reading the book which shares the same title as my post.

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I don’t know about the world in general, because no one can claim to know or speak on behalf of the world, considering we are a big, fat group of 7 billion people and counting steadily every second. But I can speak for what I have seen. Why try and define suitable? Why put people in boxes and categorize them away like they are files to be indexed and filed away? Why can’t we invest time in building relationships and understanding people rather than checking off their ‘suitable’-ness off a checklist? Why do parents feel the need to thrust their opinions on us all the while expecting us to listen and abide by it because we were borne into this world by them? Now, now. Don’t get me wrong. The opinion and blessings of parents are an absolute must – because they have seen your faults and frailties and still accept you lovingly.

To quote John Green, ” Whenever you’re furious with your parents or you think they’re terrible, just remember, you vomited on them and they kept you”.

John’s right. But I am concerned when parents who are generally free-spirited, open minded and modern turn into society-fearing, tradition-abiding and decision-thrusting parents – and that generally happens when it comes to marrying off their offspring. Of course, you want the best and the most suitable boy for us, but what scales are you using to weigh ‘best’ and ‘suitable’?

I doubt anyone’s getting answers to these questions any time soon. But if someone does, please let me in!

Graciously Yours!

P.S. : Without any disrespect to Mr. Vikram Seth, I am quite disappointed with how his story turned out to be. Or maybe he meant to write it as a satire. Then it would make more sense, yes. Because when he’s casting a web of love, passion, lies, deception, extra-marital affairs, incest, prostitutes, (along with politics, religion, cricket, shoe-making and poetry) and then telling me that an arranged marriage of a bold, talented, intelligent and strongly opinionated young lady with a man who’s heart lies with someone else but a steady job and good management skills make him a suitable boy, then I’m mighty disappointed. Because your web has a lot of loose ends that need tying up.

Oh and let’s not discuss the length. A mere one thousand four hundred and something pages. With possibly as many characters and plot points. Beautiful but a tad unnecessary. Enriching but not satisfying.

P.P.S. : The P.S. seems to be half as long as the post! Vikram Seth after effects! 😉

D.I.Y. – Washing

Are you a ‘laundry virgin’ too?
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Well, well, well! Let’s make things easier for you.

Following are the things you must NOT DO while washing:

– Do not wash your blacks with your whites! No matter how trusted that shopkeeper was or how branded the product was – blacks and whites don’t mix well.

– Do not turn on the shower if you’re sitting fully clothed right beneath it! Provided you choose to hand wash your clothes while you are fully clothed. But that’s your choice! Who am I to judge? 😉

– Do not expect yourself to work out after hand washing your dirty laundry! Your upper body got toned for the day.

– Do not put on peppy dance tracks while hanging out clothes onto the washing line. There’s bound to be water spilt and high tendencies to slip while grooving!

– Lastly, do try not to endanger your washing machine’s life. That way you can avoid hand washing your clothes!

And if by any chance, there is a rat who cuts through wires and damages the machine (#TrueStory), make sure this isn’t the technician coming to service it!

Crazy Guy!

#TrueStory again!

Graciously Yours!

P.S.: Feel free to share how you lost your ‘laundry virginity’! 😉

Meanwhile, here’s how Rachel lost hers :

The Caged Freedom.

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Staring at the vast blue skies, I sit,
My wings never even opening,
The clouds call me out towards,
To frolick around in the vapours, I sigh.

I wish I was the gazelle,
Leaping about free and unbound,
Instead I am the caged bird of paradise,
To be lavished upon with praises, children and parents’ alike.

They caged me in here,
Led me to believe I was free,
Staring out into the world,
It dawns that is not to be.

I yearned to stir things around,
Called out to my mates the war sound,
But they were pre-occupied,
With tasting what we were told was freedom.

Graciously Yours!

The unseen face.

PST

 

They could not afford the granduer of the Durga Puja pandals which were stretched across the length and breadth of the city. Their idol had none of the splendor associated with the city’s most festive days. They were five women praying to the strongest woman deity they’d ever known, celebrating her stories, wondering if she still existed somewhere among one of them.

Not many of them prayed anymore. Over the years, the numbers at the Puja had dwindled. She didn’t blame them. After all, how long can you fight against your own destiny and hope that things will change, tides will turn and the unthinkable will happen? But she hadn’t been able to forsake praying. That is the one thing that she had wholeheartedly learnt from her mother – to pray.

They weren’t a part of the privileged – if she could put it lightly. Goddesses and prayers couldn’t be an element of their daily living. Far from it, in fact. They lived in areas, the others called red light areas. She never understood where the name came from. She always wondered if the red light signified danger – and if yes, then were they a danger to society or was the society a danger to them?

She seemed to have lost herself in the sounds of the conch shell and the bells. The fragrance of the incense sticks devoured her into a trance.  Someone banged on the door. Snapping out of her trance, she opened the door. “How much longer will you all be at it? It’s almost sun down. You need to get to work,” the lady at the door, said strictly. The lady was not a bad person, but she wasn’t necessarily good either. She was, unfortunately, just right.

“We’ll be downstairs soon,” she said ruefully.

Closing the small 10 by 10 feet spare room which housed a small idol of the Goddess of the season, the five ladies trooped to their respective rooms downstairs. Taking off her red and white bangles, she kept them carefully in a velvet clothed box. Her mangalsutra* lay beside it. She’d never worn it after her wedding day. Tears welling up in her eyes, she kept the box tucked far inside her wardrobe. She removed her red bindi and stuck it on the top of the box. They were to be used again after a long time. Slowly she took off her red and white sari, an attire which held no significance in the life she was living, an attire that was to be kept hidden away from her ‘customers’, an attire that shouldn’t remind them in any manner of the life that was awaiting them outside the red light area.

She was faceless to them. Nameless to them. They wanted it that way. And she wanted to keep it that way too. She didn’t want to think of what her life meant – either to her or to them. She wanted to keep her dreams locked away in that velvet clothed box.

She was a devotee of  the Durga. But she couldn’t harness the Goddess’ strength in herself. They were devotees of the Durga too. And they didn’t want her to harness Her strength.

Graciously Yours!

Picture Courtesy : Prashant from Just Spoken Thoughts. Thank you for coming up with the beautiful sketch in almost no time! Hoping that this post will allure you into further creative collaborations! ;)

*The black and golden beaded necklace that signifies marital connection and is a part of the married Hindu woman’s attire.

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