Loving Life

This is my favourite time of the year. I celebrated my birthday last month with some really precious people in my life. The whole day spent at the majestic Taj amidst lakhs of tourists, jostling with the crowd and finding a vacant spot to pose for pics. Well, this birthday was special in a lot of ways…never have I been treated with so much affection and love on my birthday (lol) and yes, hopefully this will be my last birthday as a single woman coz I tie the knot next year. This year had been amazing and I had varied experience from hitting rock bottom, to feeling heartbroken and vulnerable, to being loved unconditionally, to finally accepting the fact that in parting do we know the depth of love and friendship and yes, finally making the right decision in matters of the heart, putting an end to all the self-created miseries that slowly burnt me away and learning to let go of things that wasn’t meant to be, and yes, believing in love again. How lucky I am to have these mighty hearts that love me unconditionally!! Isn’t it a blessing to realise that there is always that one person who will stand by you even if everyone else have left? I feel blessed and my heart is smiling coz I have these incredible people in my life who never let me down. I am special, yes, may be more because I am chosen to be loved by them inspite of all my flaws. And I am thankful and I swear to make a difference in the lives of people around me and make them feel as blessed as me.

International Women’s Day

I have never really liked the idea of keeping a separate day for women. This is just another reminder that man and woman are not equal and that as long as women continue to feel special on such days there is so much left to be done. It amazes me as to why there is a need for women to seek equality with man. Are we in some kind of competition with man? I guess not. So why do women always feel the pressure to be equal to man...can’t we just pursue excellence? But having cited my opinion, I do realize that there is still a long long long way to go before we stop keeping aside a special day for women…coz for now…there is a need to ensure safety of women and to enjoy her basic rights as a human all across the globe.

I watched the BBC documentary India’s daughter – a must watch for every citizen of this country. I have shared in my facebook page and so did many users but the Govt. have been blocking URLs and sweeping the dirt of our society under the carpet. The Govt. is supposedly running out of ideas to impose ban…the ridiculous beef ban, censoring use of word “lesbian” in movie, banning the movie “50 shades of Grey”  (So those who didn’t intend to watch the movie earlier are downloading it from torrent and watching it! I have read the book anyway), now the documentary is banned. What is with the ostrich mindset of our authorities! Keep your head covered under sand and you think the problem is not there? This is the truth. The sooner we face it, the better. A few months ago, I watched the interview of an actress who talked about the plight of women in India…the dowry deaths, child marriages during her visit abroad and she was slammed by a reporter here in India who accused her of degrading the name of the nation. She proved her point and stated that it is happening…she only said the truth and said that she can’t be a hypocrite and pretend as if all these social evils do not exist. It is a shame that in an attempt to protect the image of the country, the society is degrading day by day. Child Sex Ratio declined from 945 in 1991 to 927 in 2001 to 918 in 2011 (Census Report).

The documentary only shows the obvious sorry state of affairs of the country. Should we feel sorry for the old parents of the rapist who committed suicide? Or should we be shocked at the statement of the wife of the rapist who still can’t believe that her husband will do such an act and even told that if her husband is hanged she has no choice but to kill her son as well as she has no means of survival. The problem is much deeper. In this deeply maligned patriarchal society of ours, woman is subjected to all forms of abuse – physical, emotional, verbal and sexual abuse. I am sure every woman in India has faced atleast one form of abuse. If not abused, there is always this fear...of not feeling safe.

Recently, an office colleague of mine in his early 50s offered to help me get a better position and asked what I would give him if I get selected. Out of courtesy, I replied whatever you want, Sir. He had worked in the North East for some years and I thought he would have wanted something ethnic from my native place. All this while, I have considered him a father figure and was being polite and it all went down the drain when he said “I want you.” Yes, he said “I want you” 3-4 times. So naïve I was that the first time he told me that, I still thought maybe he was referring to my personality…but when he repeated it I was too shocked to react. Later, it dawned on me...his intentions…and no matter how much my friends are supportive of me, I feel guilty. Have I ever given a wrong signal to him? How could he garner the courage to speak like that to me? Why me? Am I too shallow or cheap? Is it the way I dress or that I smile and greet my seniors? I know the fault is not in me. And no, I am not going to play the “North East” card…that coz I am from North East, he thought I am easy. NO. If not me, it would have been some other girl…and who knows how she would have handled. One thing is for sure, nothing is worth it…job, money….nothing is worth such humiliation. So while I deal with this pervert and seek to teach him a lesson soon enough I feel for the millions of woman who have been harassed at homes and at work…whose voices have been silenced. The whole episode keeps repeating in my mind and every time it angers me for I did not give an apt reply that would shut him up. I am lucky that I have close friends whom I can confide to who have gone through the same ordeal. It is a disgrace…how many women must be facing the same emotional turmoil with no one to talk to.  So where should the change begin? Educated fools like the pervert in my office and those shitty lawyers who defend the rapists are grim reminders of how failed the education system is.

Such a fake democracy we have! The statement by our political leaders that the mob lynching of alleged rapists at Dimapur will be dealt with appropriately, made me laugh. Why don’t these morons realize that the public has lost faith in the judicial system and therefore, has taken the law in their own hands.  I have never supported mob lynching but it is better to castrate the rapists and kill them in public rather than see them undergo trials and let imprudent lawyers blame the victim and the trial would go on forever. Social media is filled with comments supporting the mob lynching...such is the frustration of the masses….the plight of women.

I live in the Rape Capital of India. I live in fear. I try to reach home before dark and dress sensibly. And so do many women I know. We live in fear. We do not mind jostling in the ladies’ coach of the metro rather than enjoying some space in the other coaches where men travel. I do not say that all men are the same. Chivalry is not dead. But I cannot risk it. For, someday if I complain of being touched inappropriately, people will blame me for not travelling in the ladies’ coach. This is India and it’s better to be safe than sorry.

And I know that as long as I reach home early coz I feel unsafe to reach after dark and not out of my choice there is a need for International Women’s Day. 

A Walk to Remember :)

The noisy honks and sound of engines engulfed the air. It was getting dark and the moon shone brightly as ever. It must have been the night of the full moon. And there we were, walking in the sidewalks of the busy road hands deep inside our jacket to thwart off the cold. The cold crispy December breeze left a few hairs stranded on my face and I was frantically trying to keep them in place by merely shaking my head coz I did not wanted to take out my hands. Every time we had to cross the road he would grab my hand and bring me closer to him only to let go when we crossed the busy street. We had decided to walk back home. And we still had a few miles to walk.

We didn’t know the directions and kept asking around. The side walk was made of concrete and was a bit elevated from the ground. On the right was a fence, and on the left there were short trees that grew at almost equal distance. The road is just next to the line of trees where the vehicles passed by without even having a glance of the pedestrians. As I walked along, I looked up and saw the moon shining brightly amidst the regular flutter of the leaves. It was so serene, so peaceful. We never stopped talking, we laughed and made fun of each other. He kept pushing me down from the side walk - to the ground in one swift motion without even taking out his hands from the jacket , and I kept falling no matter how much I tried not to. When I tried to push him down, he always managed to get hold of himself. He would stand so firmly that I could not even mange to move him slightly. And he would knock me down so easily just with a gentle push. You see the rule was that both the feet should fall on the ground and not be at the sidewalk…if one feet is still there, its not counted. We laughed so much, my stomach hurted. I told him to stop coz I was on the losing side. He stopped and we started walking again. And then again, I tried to catch him unaware and push him down but he would stand still immediately and I cant even move him. And he laughed and said “Baby, I am too good at this. You can't win by cheating”. I scoffed and after sometime he willingly let me win. We walked our way laughing in that cold night under the moon, the winter wind playing with us and I knew it would take me forever to forget this moment. 

Happy February folks!! :) 

The Sorry State that is Manipur

Source: Google

Yesterday India celebrated her 66^th Republic day with US President Barck Obama gracing the event. I have always felt patriotic on days like Republic Day and Independence Day since my childhood just like many millions of Indians. I used to be glued to our TV set watching Republic day parades and of course waiting patiently for the troops of Manipur. Back at home, kids must be watching it more because Republic day is not only a holiday but a general strike and parents would keep their wards off the streets into the safety of their homes for fear of bomb blasts and gun fires. Yes, never have there been a Republic Day or Independence Day in Manipur with the familiar news of gun fire, ambush or bandhs….it is just so pathetically predictable. Seriously for what? What do you seek? Independence? Are you f***ing kidding me? This year was no different. With reports of bomb blasts in and around Imphal and outfits proudly claiming it as their doing, the tradition is complete…deserted streets and fear! How can violence and fear be an answer to anything? Blame it on AFSPA, blame it on the Government, blame it on Delhi and every other person around…the system but that’s the way it goes! That’s the way things work at Manipur…lobbying, corruption, power and wealth.

I went home for two weeks early this year. My mind freshened; I got to breathe clean air, saw the blue skies, the starry nights, the winds playing with my curtain…so unlike the chaos of Delhi…and I also saw the corruption that went rampant. I was caught for not carrying wearing helmet and the traffic police asked the profession of my father. Such is the sorry state of affairs! Ours is a state based on lies and hypocrisy…you think this will last for long? And when I question about the functioning and the way things work, they say what do you know...you have never stayed here for long. Well, who cares?

I know ten years from now, things will change. The winds of change are finally here. It will take time but surely and steadily hope will remain. We need a generation who believes in this change. And yes, just like a good friend of mine suggested when we discussed about the needs of a good leader in our turmoil torn state that what we really need is not a good leader but a group who can make good leaders, some team who can imbibe the values of a good leader and back him/her with the people. Enough of all the bickering and politics, we need people who can sit together, bring forth ideas and talk and compromise and know his/her stand and that of others. I know deep down everyone is fed up of the violence and the anarchy that have become the image of our state. And yes, I am patriotic, I know my roots so I care. And I know many of my contemporaries care…and they are not okay with living life this way. And I know, they are tired of living away from home and want to come back and that no matter how tainted it is, we still long to be home. My voice will dwindle away for now but soon enough many thoughts like mine will surface up and there will be no turning around.  And what will remain will be peace and excellence….a new identity for us…an identity synonymous with truth and tolerance and development as a society whose realms are based on truth will only rise stronger!!

Peace!!

Loss of Humanity

Photo courtesy: Being Indian facebook page

I was at office when I heard about the terrorist attack at a school at Peshawar. My newsfeed was flooded with reports of the attack – each report increasing the death toll. My eyes welled up on seeing the images of corpses of children being carried, wailing mothers beating their hearts holding the body of their dead children…such horrific images!

When I caught up with the news later it was reported that more than a hundred children have been slaughtered. How could they? These children who went to school in the morning, their parents sending them off with no clue that they will never come back….if they had known that it was the last time they will see their precious ones would they have hugged a little longer, would they have kissed them one last time? How could these mindless fools just walk away after killing an entire classroom? Their hands soiled with the bloods of these innocent children – is this the revenge they wanted? Yet they shamelessly claimed that they did it for revenge…as though it was some achievement. Such are the words of the brainwashed minds trained to believe that such barbaric acts are in the name of religion.

Even as the whole world condemn this act, my heart cant get over with the image of this blood soiled shoe of a little girl. She must have looked like an angel wearing the clean white shoe and now what remains are the remnants of blood and violence as the whole world grieves on the loss of humanity. I pray for you little angel. When children become the victim of violence and abuse, the future of mankind is at stake. We have a huge price to say. Whether it is the Peshawar attack or 26/11 attacks at Mumbai or the recent bomb blasts at Imphal which killed labourers, every act of terror is an act of cowardice. Violence is not the answer to any of your damn problems. Every time humanity loses, we have to remind ourselves that we live in this world so devoid of love. Since when did we lose our conscience in the midst of all these reckless dreams that we chase?

As we express our grief, our prayers and shock over the victims of every life lost in violence, let us make an attempt to make life better for people around us in the least significant way we can. We are so caught up in our own battles inside that we really don’t care that the other person sitting next to you or the person whom you chose to ignore is also fighting as hard as you are. Just a smile or a kind word is all it takes. What we really need is a little bit more love!

Peshawar we grieve with you. May you find the strength to move on. 

Lost and Found

I used to see him every day on my way to office. It has been almost a month. I would hurriedly walk past strangers stealing quick glances at my watch. And there he used to sit under an Ashoka tree on a rugged jute sheet, on what used to be a bag I think. He was an old man with unkempt grey hair, unshaven and his shirt was stitched together in parts. He would neatly put in line a few shoe laces, a leather piece or two; a few bottles of shoe polish and on his side is a radio that hummed old Hindi songs. Often I used to notice him humming along, adjusting his old glasses as he mended a shoe. I would smile and walk past him. Every day he would be in the same spot sometimes too engrossed in his work to notice the passers-by, at times, he would be tuning the channels of the radio or merely looking at strangers jostling away unaware of his existence, his mysterious brown eyes looking far away as though he was thinking of someone.

I am not sure if he knew me or if he realised that I used to slow down my pace as I approached him only to stride faster as I walked past him.  I did not know why…may be he inspired me in ways I can never comprehend, as he cope up with this city just as I was struggling my way through, may be it was sheer respect. I don’t know. I do not know where he came from. I used to see him only in the morning. Is he a thousand miles away from home just as I am? Does he also yearn to be at home? Does he earn enough to support his family? Does he even have a family? I would wonder the few minutes he comes in my life every day and the thoughts would fade away as he disappeared out of sight.

And then the rain came. It had been a rather hot and dry July. My friends had asked if I wanted to go for a movie but I wished to stay back, enjoy the view of the rain from my window as I catch up with the book I am reading. My thoughts drifted away and I remembered the old man and wondered where he might be. I hoped to see him the next day. A new day dawned. As I stepped out of Hauz Khas metro station, it was drizzling. I took out my umbrella and started walking towards my office. I was searching for the old man from a distance, carefully placing my feet so as not to step on the muddy puddle along the pavement, but he was nowhere in sight. The place where he used to sit was empty except for a few wet leaves and twigs that lay nonchalantly. I reached the spot and stood there for a few seconds looking around if he was nearby. He wasn’t there. I left the spot, a hint of disappointment and worry. Is he sick? What happened to him? Will be come again? I brushed aside my thoughts and began my daily ordeal. The next day he didn’t show up again and so did the next and the day after that. He was missing the entire week. I felt uneasy. I just wanted to have an assurance that he was fine. The week ended with no sight of him. I could not believe that I was actually missing him. I felt as though I had lost a friend…a friend whom I had not even said “Hi”.

Monday came and I silently hoped that I would see him. The sky was clear and everything around seemed cleansed by the recent rains. As I walked in the pedestrian pavement I saw from a distance “my” old man arranging his kit, sitting in the same spot and all his tools placed just the way it used to be.  A wide grin plastered on my face and I walked swiftly towards him and stood in front of him. I gasped. He looked up to me. I just smiled and said “Namaste uncle”. He said “Namaste beta”. I just stood there…my happiness profound on seeing him. He raised an eyebrow as if to say “What’s next?” I did not know what next to do or say. Should I tell him that I was worried about him or that I thought I would never see him again? I just stood there not saying a word. Suddenly, I reached my bag and took out my umbrella and gave it to him.

In a surprised tone he said “But its not raining”.

 I just smiled and said “Uncle, please use it when it rains”. He sat there too stunned to say anything.

I took a step back turned around to walk towards my office. A smile played on my lips. My old friend is back in town. And yes, I did say "Hi".

My Rendezvous with Delhi

I have often heard people say “Delhi has its own charm” and for the last two months I am trying to figure out its meaning. I have never stayed in a big city….grew up in a small town and I have spent my entire student life living in the comforts of hostel surrounded by really good friends. It’s a different story now. My career quest has brought me here to this city infamous as the “Rape capital of India”….all the more reasons why my folks are worried sick and keep checking on me. I have my own apprehensions and I am just trying to squeeze myself in…with regular autowalas chanting “Metre kharab hai” to gearing up and shovelling my way through ear plugged indifferent commuters at Rajiv chowk amidst sweat soaked arm pits and frizzy hair of dear aunties. Ah!! Workplace is another heaven. I swear, if a new girl joins our office I will show these wanna-be professionals what it is like to make new friends and make it easier to adjust atleast for her. I have never thought about that guy in F.R.I.E.N.D.S. who told Phoebe that nobody knew he existed in his office…now I totally understand what he must have felt. Lonely and lost.

And oh this is the hardest, finding a room which is clean and safe with the perfect amount of sunlight, enough privacy, cost effective, devoid of nosy and annoying landlords and easily accessible by Metro. After searching for about a month and talking with loud brokers and tempting my patience to the max, the final deal was done with a landlord bent on speaking broken English and a broker who rose his voice every time he has to prove a point, pointing his index finger to everyone he talked to and I had no way but to push his finger way every time its directed to me. I still feel that I can get a better room in that price. Anyway, for now I have to start thinking of ways to make an empty room homely and I know I am gonna love this part except for the expenses.

Inspite of all the hardships and trying times, it’s a delight to savour the sweet taste of independence and freedom that comes along with it, owning my own place and (re) doing it the way I want.  And of course, flaunting it with style by sending pictures to family and close friends and expecting congratulatory notes and praises. It is just so worth it to get soaked in all these attention after all the efforts, time and money I have invested. Now, it’s off my bucket list – to have my own space before 30 and yes, I do feel really good.

I know one careless moment is all it takes to make my heart sink and I despise living top notch all the time but in a city where being rude is a culture I got to be careful. Being friendly, caring, kind and helpful to strangers seems to be the dumbest thing to do around here. Everyone is in a hurry but nobody seems to reach on time. Awful weather, really nasty traffic; narrow, crowded and smelly galis and when the night comes fear lurks in sparing none; news of accidents, murder and rape adorning the newspapers. Of course, these nuances are not the only colour with which Delhi is painted with. On a lighter note, I have to agree that Delhi has its own charm…Window shopping around CP, sitting idly with friends at India gate, savouring different cuisines at Delhi Haat or getting awestruck at the sight of the richness of our culture at Lajpat nagar or Pallika bazaar or chanting “Bheiya, kaam karo na!!” at Sarojini nagar or getting dressed up and lazing away at huge malls…I know I am just a couple of months old and I am yet to explore and learn, get disappointed, amazed and happy in days to come. All geared up to face what this city has to offer coz being tough and strong is what this city teaches you. They say if you have lived at Delhi nobody can mess with you coz you have learnt some valuable life skills which other cities will not offer.

It’s just that…We need to practice being nice. Don’t get fooled but let us not abstain from being kind and compassionate. We seem to have forgotten being humane in all the haste of life.