The angst of Self!

2 months and not a post. 2011 gave way to 2012 yet I maintained a stoic silence. Was it for want of words? Or lack of stories to write home about?

Not really. So many times I picked up my laptop and starting writing away mindlessly.. pouring my heart into words.. Either what I wrote could'nt be put in a blog or it was something I  left mid-way, not sure myself how to carry on.

I do not have anything to write today. Or may be there is soo much I need to express that my feelings struggle for priority. Yet I fail to understand what is it really that I want to write. Have I lost the power to express my angst? In trying to put my feelings under a cold grasp, have I lost the ability to express even the most innate feelings.

Again my answer comes to a naught!

What's wrong with them anyway?!

DISGUSTING. REPULSIVE. SORDID. REVOLTING.

No, I'm not trying to improve my vocabulary here! That can happen even without practicing on these upsetting terms. However, there are some times in your life when you are forced to pull all your strength and deep dive into your vocabulary to try and find terms which, even if not precisely, somewhat pay justice to your feelings and bring out things from the abyss of your heart.

23 years and counting. Yes, that's the amount of time and life I have spent amidst men - excuse moi - creatures who are popularly called men. Every day brings yet another facet of these creatures to the fore and every day is yet another blow to your faith in justice. Justice to humanity. Justice to mankind.

Don't worry. I am not a man-hater. Nor am I here ranting relentlessly just for the fun of it. Trust me, at the end of a tiring day, the last thing you want to do is act like a cry-baby. However, this couldn't wait. Not any longer.

Last night was yet another night when I could let loose my words (read : swear-words). Already having been worried into a late-night working sister who doesn't pick up your calls or sms'es back saying she'll be even later than 11pm working late into the night in back to back meetings, the last thing you want is to hear that her car got rammed! BLUHDY HELL!!! You cannot help but be thankful to someone, somewhere that she's reached home - safe, unhurt.

However, later when you hear the details, about how a rowdy and impatient cab driver, driving like Schumacher from the wrong way on a one-way street rams the car, backs the car and runs off like a rat into his hole, you can feel your blood pulsating and feel like killing that son of a gun (mind my language).

How this previous para fits into the essential theme of this particular blog post isn't quite as illogical as one might be thinking actually. One might argue that a woman might have been doing exactly the same thing and I wouldn't have uttered a word just because of the gender in question. However, the fact that every second man on the street drives like he owns the road is something which irks me to no end.

Despite this apparent I'll-drive-like-mad-i-own-the-road phenomenon, there is yet another thing which is limited to Indian men. Yes, the very own male species of our patriarchal society. Actually, somehow, when they were young or in their early childhood, they must have been told by their parents/family/society that it is their right to urinate - in front of the whole world. After all, privacy can go to hell. I'm sure they must wonder every day which idiot thought of coming up with a decent, civilized toilet. The road is their relieving zone my friend.

Why can't these seemingly normal humans understand that their bladder works pretty similar to that of a woman. When women can control and hold it in, why can't they. Even if the bladder completely revolts and forces them to go find a place to pee, would it bee too much of an effort to find a secluded place, away from the hustle and bustle and close vision of the world.

If there's anything worse than a man peeing on the road-side is a man who pees there and is proud of it. These men have a degree in Masters of Disgust. They pee on the road, constantly scratch their balls, dig a hole into their noses and burp/fart in public as if people are waiting for another round of disgust from them.

Why are we like this? One can't even say these qualities are limited to the uneducated, illiterate people. They still might be excused, for no one taught them basic hygiene and how to act/behave when in public. But what about those driving-in-civic-still-spitting-paan-out-of-the-car people? What about the expensive-suit-and-boots-flaunting people who burp loudly before entering into a meeting with their corporate honcho.

Why are we like this? Would it be too much of an effort to TRY and being CIVILIZED and DECENT.

An early morning sms from my sister brought me a hearty laugh and at the same time a sense of irony of how we have got used to, what else but disgusting behavior from our NCR men. This is how it read :

" A group of men peeing the side of the national highway, chests thrust out like a peacock in heat, looking around proudly to see who's noticing. Who dare beat the NCR man in disgust factor?"

No one, I'd said. They win hands down!!! Sad, but true.

A sorry is just another word!!

When a sorry cannot undo the damage already done..
When apologies don't mend a bleeding heart..
When the bullet's already outta the gun..
When all you do is mourn and shun..
The very being which caused the greatest hurt..
The winds have blown over..
The trees don't dance no more..
A sorry becomes just another word..
Another excuse for the big, bad world...

~~Deeksha

The other side of Delhi

We sometimes forget how beautiful some things and places are, till we see them again in times of utter silence and peace.

Since moving to Gurgaon, I'm forced to compare the two cities again and again and sadly there's not much difference between the two. The same rude, impatient and flashy people are there in both the cities. Why shouldn't they? After all, Gurgaon is teeming with the Delhi junta, either those who commute here everyday for their jobs in the sky-high fancy buildings or the others, like me, who chose not to travel in the crazy traffic everyday and have instead moved to the NCR.

Frankly, I don't miss Delhi. Not much anyways. I'm probably one of those very few Delhiites, who's not that proud of being one. Mostly because of the kind of people we are, the qualities I have listed earlier. But no, this blog isn't my frustration about the kind of people we have in either of these cities. That is for some other time.

Today, It's about the other side of Delhi. The beautiful one. One which we often miss in the dusty, pot-holed, traffic laden streets of the city during the day time. This side of Delhi is can only be discovered when most of the busy junta have returned to their homes, and are soundly watching their Just Dance or Bigg Boss or some such stuff. They wouldn't give two hoots about what's happening outside their homes.

When some crazy, moneyed, pistol-flaunting Bolero owner isn't running around the streets killing innocent toll-boothwallahs, one must roam around the city at night and be engulfed in its beauty. The wide roads, the cool breeze and dark night are so welcoming that it actually makes you fall in love again with the city.

Today was one of those nights, when despite of seeing cars here, there, everywhere even at 12am, I still could enjoy my ride. It was AMAZING! The wide, traffic free roads were a welcome change to the choc-a-block traffic that's a common sight at any time of the day.

The people were speeding even then, making zig-zags and flaunting what great cars and driving skills they owned, but for a change I couldn't bother less. I just wanted to enjoy my drive. I would've stayed home while D picked up E from the airport, but there was no way I could miss this opportunity to drive at night. I wasn't disappointed and when I saw the glowing moon in the sky while waiting at one of the red lights, I just smiled to myself. I was so much at peace with myself, with the peace around me, no crazy rush to reach anywhere.

So yes, Delhi is beautiful. It's got a certain charm about it which most Delhiites and outsiders love. But then again, why must one wait for the night to fall in order to be able to enjoy the beauty of this place? 

Dear Excel Sheet

Dear Excel Sheet

I’d like to start by saying I really love you. I mean it. After all, I spend 12 hours of my day staring at you. So much so, that sometimes, Numbers start flowing like a river, all thanks to you. I still love you.

Strange life is, is it not? For, there was a time when I had vowed to a life without you. Ok. So staying without you is really not a feasible idea today. However, more and more as I spend time with you, I realize how foolish I was.

For, you have not just become a part of my life. You are the be all and end all where my life is concerned. The 1^st thing I do when I start my day is open all the various versions of you I would need to get me through the day.

And the last thing I do when I finally leave for home is either share you with THE ONE or take home with me, sweet darling that you are. See, I can’t even think of staying at home without your esteemed and loving presence.

I have scattered your love all throughout my house. Whether it’s my personal laptop, which was supposed to be for my leisure and relaxation, or my sister’s which is supposed to be used in case of dire urgency, you are there everywhere.

My dear excel, now you must realize how much I am in love with you.

There was once a part of me, which was fun and enthusiastic. I used to THINK and FEEL.

Now also there’s a part of me that thinks and feels. But, they do so just for one and one thing alone – You, my dear excel sheet, who else but you?!

I often dream of seeing my face splashed across a brick wall, with you covering me head to toe. Beautiful it would be I am sure. For such love can only be seen to be believed.

However, my dear excel. Even though I love you so, I would never want you to spend such QUALITY time with anyone I know, who might be even a little bit such as me.

For, even though a useful and helpful little friend you are. You often make your partner forget who they are. Some keep on going through life, led on by bigger versions of you. Some halt and take a whole new different path.

I wonder what happens to either of these. Do they miss you as the sun misses the rain? Or do they cry their eyes out, staying apart from you, wondering how they would carry on with their lives without your magical guidance.

Or are there some breeds who might not give you half as much attention as you need? Do you also sometimes feel ignored, when the more snobby “creative” types, give more weight to dreams and imaginations and maybe 12 hours not solely to you?

Don’t you get sick of the talks of thinking out of the box and spending time understanding other, may be more important stuff? For surely you must think and believe, that you have all there is to know. There might not be any life beyond an excel sheet.

Do you ever spare anyone, ever? Young, fun or old? Or do you like to scratch and bite, till wounds go sore and pain no more. Uncomfortably numb as they say.

The questions remain unanswered, as so many of life’s mysteries do. But never for a moment should you believe that I’ve stopped loving you……

Yours truly

The Little Girl

There was once a li'l girl

Who didn't think she was worth a twirl

She grew up feeling small and wry

A li'l fat, much too shy..

Never knowing a handsome lad awaits her..

Quick to laugh and riding beyond the tide

They met as strangers

Grew up to be great friends

Until one day when both had feelings surreal 

Riding the tide of laughter and love

devoid of any drama, locked away in a cove

Alas! The ride was short-lived

As it often always is..

All they could do was watch either go 

Each holding on to their ego

Time moved on.. As it ruthlessly does

Both living their lives

Unaware of each other's purrs

Happily masking a bruised heart

Under the sun, smiles and more love

Till there came a day 

when the little princess shunned all love

For how could she love any

When she lost the only one she loved?

Would destiny do her justice some day?

Have someone to love who loved her back same way?

Letting go of all the pain she hid in her heart

Awashed by the freshness of a long and lasting start...

The guy in the Red shirt!!!

He was unlike any other guy I had ever laid my eyes on. With eyes so trusting and such a gorgeous smile, I wondered how anyone in the vicinity could not but focus just on him. His red shirt and shiny dark brown hair, with a few strands caressing his forehead, he looked like the most gorgeous thing on earth.

Sitting at a bench near a small fountain, in the middle of a crowded market in Switzerland, on a beautiful sunny afternoon, that guy in red shirt simply took my heart away. And the best part? He had reserved his special smiles, naughty glances and undivided attention to no one else in that crowded street but me! What started as the sharing of a few glances and small smiles and of course his little gifts of love..he simply made the trip that day worthwhile!!

The woman who was accompanying him had her eyes firmly on him. Thankfully, she didn’t mind him shooting me the special smile or the mischievous glances or even coming to my bench every now and then. Within the next half an hour, we had caught the attention of every person, young or old, near that lovely fountain. Some looked amused by his antics, while others looked at me, clearly a foreign girl in that area, with curious glances. However, nothing could sway his attention from me. What started out as hesitant glances towards me went on to become a full blown public affair, with him showering me with a gift so unusual, that too every 5 mins!

After stopping him a few times, but clearly not getting the desired response from him, and with me not showing any signs of boredom or irritation either, the woman accompanying him also found a quiet corner under a huge tree, getting busy with her thoughts, glancing at us every now and then.

My sister, who had been bugging me throughout our Europe trip, for being such a bore and not even trying to talk to any handsome young man who crossed our paths, was clearly enjoying this and in fact, egged me on to respond likewise to his unbiased showering of love and how can we forget, the pebbles ;-) Don’t worry, he wasn’t showing his love by hitting me with pebbles or anything, it just happened to be the only thing he could get his hands on and could give to me!

I can say, without hesitation, that he has been the most handsome guy till date who has hit on me, and that too so openly! Ahh, that smile and the beautiful eyes.. Anyways, I have always been a sucker for beautiful and deep eyes. So he was, in fact, the ideal package for me. He made up for di and masi having pulled me to go shopping with them! He just made it so worthwhile! Alas! All good things must come to an end. And that gorgeous little guy had to go away with that woman who had decided it was time to go home! All I was left with was his backward glances, the sight of his little red shirt, the twinkling eyes and of course, the pebbles! That gorgeous Swiss guy in the red shirt really took my heart away in that sunny afternoon near the fountain!!