Dr. Kalyani Sutradhar (henceforth addressed ad KS), the psychiatrist, seated herself across from Shopno. After a quick hello, she came straight to the point. Looking at Shopno intensely, she asked, “Why are you here?”
“They think I am weird,” said Shopno, “and I want to find out…” She didn’t let her finish the sentence. “Who are they?” she interrupted.
“I should have chosen a male psychiatrist” Shopno muttered to herself.
“My blog readers, friends, and above all, my husband” said Shopno.
“You have a blog?! A real one with real readers?! Not imaginary?!” She inquired. KS seemed convinced that Shopno was off the rocker from the get go.
“It’s a real one! I am not that nuts yet. You can check it out at mitraditi.blogspot.com”
KS opened the blog. She asked..."Shopno? Why do you choose that name"
"Because I prefer that name"
“You prefer to call yourself Shopno?”
She scribbled in her pad, in plain view. “Likes to be identified as imaginery,” she wrote.
“It would help me understand you better if I saw your blog.” She opened the blog and she immediately was taken aback.
"Post on pregnant woman?! On gynaechological details?!"
“No, no. It is just a humorous article on how to have fun at a gynaecologists office”
She paid no attention and scrolled down quickly glancing through the articles. “Another article on pregnancy.. hmm... pregnancy pondering?! how many times did you write about pregnant woman in the recent past?”
"A couple of times", Shopno said meekly.
“Man having fun at gynaecologist. Dirty mental images of pregnant women. Sexual harassment in office...hmmm. Let me ask you, do women in the gynecologists room turn you on?”
“WHAT? What the …”
“Are pregnant woman your fetish?
Shopno sat upright, horrified. “NO!” she shouted, “how the hell did you make that inference?”
KS said nothing but scribbled on her pad again: “Pregnant women is an emotional subject for patient; patient bashes men at every instant; even talks about ways of wearing sarees!!!” Without lifting her eyes from the pad, she spoke sternly, “Please don’t read my notes.” She put a hand on the notes to hide them.
She continued the interview. “So your readers, and err... friends, do they have similar interests?” she asked, carefully selecting the word “interests”.
Irritated, Shopno lashed out, “Don’t insult my readers. Most of them are women with children.”
KS said nonchalantly, “Are you saying they were all pregnant at one time?”
Shopno found no words to respond. She buried her face in her hands and stared at KS vacantly.
She continued, “Are you attracted to your readers?”
Waving her hands frantically, Shopno shouted, “NO NO! Most of them are my childhood friends”
It was as if those words never reached Dr. Smith. She continued, “It seems their accusation of your being is weird may not be completely groundless. But I think there is something more to it”
She scribbled something in the pad. As she put the pen back, she dropped it on the floor. It presented a good opportunity for Shopno to read the notes when Dr. KS bent down to retrieve the pen. As she stood up to read the notes, Dr. KS suddenly looked up. Her face turned red. She clutched her blouse closer and shouted, “Are you checking out my maternity bra?”
Shopno dropped on her knees and begged. “Dr. KS, I don’t know how to convince you. My writing about pregnancy means nothing. It’s just an easy topic to write humorously. At least read rest of the blog. I agree I make fun of men, but all thats done with plain and simple humor, honestly no offense meant. Its just that I work in a reputed MNC where I hardly have anything to do, so to kill my time, I blog. Often I run out of topics, and then, just for the sake of fun i keep on writing funny things - even the labels read as Nonsense-Funny”
She seemed a little convinced. She let go of the paperweight she was holding and proceeded to read the rest of the blog. She read for a few minutes, her face very serious, which in itself was an insult for what was purported to be a humor blog. To add injury she asked, “Do you use any illegal drugs?”
“No,” answered Shopno.
“So you produced all this while you were completely conscious.”
“Yes”
“All those 10 ways of wearing saree, Indian-Spider man, Pregnancy advice, and rest of the, um.. humor, you wrote consciously and willingly?”
"yes"
"And you say you are working lady, but with no work - so you have written all this during your office time - in full consciousness?"
"Yes"
Dr. KS spoke with a surprised look on her face, “I have seen so many people in my career. But, you are the weirdest!”
Shopno sighed in relief. "Weird" is so much better than "Lesbian/pervert". She asked, “All I want to know is, if I will ever be normal”
She said, with a sympathy filled tone, “Mrs. Shopno. Looking at your work so far, I am sorry to say there is no hope for you. You will be weird for the rest of your life.”
Shopno beamed with delight. “Thank you! that’s all I wanted to know. Now I can blog forever.” She walked out a relieved person.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Happy Birthday to Me - a page from my Diary
Life is a story of losing as we move on, losing innocence, virginity, beauty, loved ones, hair...... that sort of things; well actually no, its also about gaining! After 30 there are two things that I continuously gain no matter what. Age and weight.
That’s exactly how I see another birthday; I am now officially older and fatter. Needless to say eating a cake with my name written on it is the only thing to look forward to on birthdays. All other milestones have been taken care of. I can drink (not that I prefer doing it though, but i can, if i want to), watch adult cinema (again, not very interested, but no one can stop me), make love, buy anti wrinkle cream. It’s all done.
Birthdays in my world are strictly for children, I mean for genuine juvenile minds. As a juvenile I loved birthdays because it was synonymous with presents and a remote possibility of getting a taste of colored (assorted) frostings.
My mother thought colored frostings were bad so got me dowdy cakes with whitish frostings and some useful fruit pieces on it. This is my mother for you, connecting morality with personal taste. Bright colored frosting is evil, cake decors are sin, buttercream is another word for devil. So what did I get? Some sponge with whipped cream and no goodies on top :-( But ofcourse, in the milestone years (like 5th or 10th birthday) my father compensated me with those delicious stuffs from the Flury's, but after a lot of opposition from my mother (now you know why I love my father so much?)
Anyways, my mother's opposition resulted in my fixation with colored frosting. I actually scrape off frosting from cakes eat the frosting and leave the cake behind, mind you only richly colored frosting. Talk about disturbed childhood.
Then came my inability to blow the candles and spitting all over the grumpy cake. My mother making inane comments like ‘parchish na keno!’ (Why can’t you do it?). As if blowing was something I should have been good at!!!!!
Anyway after all blows, song and cheer, I couldn’t cut the cake. Simple, I was bad at it. Keep in mind this is a kid we are talking about, it wasn’t natural for me to be good with knives. So every year my father helped me to cut the cake.
I loved the presents; I was a happy kid who liked anything that came in wrapped in a colorful paper. It didn’t matter what was inside, it took no effort to make me happy. I wasn’t old enough for real happiness then.
Birthdays also meant no studying, one evening when I was left alone with my toys, books or whatever booty I managed from the neighborhood. I didn’t have to study!
Talking of birthday presents my mother was always embarrassed when people got presents on my birthday. I have no clue why but people are always like that. Now as an adult I do that when someone gives me a present, ‘O you shouldn’t have, come on why did you?’ but I mean exactly the opposite, ‘Wow! A present do it more often. I love it. Give me anything. But keep giving’.
But my mother went a step ahead while inviting people she said, ‘Just come, don’t bring anything.’
This killed me.
A) I didn’t like most of the kids I invited.
B) I gave them presents on their birthdays. It's not fair.
Thankfully none of them listened to what my mother said.
Every birthday I sit and contemplate about bygone years and just one thought comes. It’s my birthday I don’t have to study today……I have moved on so much yet why, why can’t I just move on?
That’s exactly how I see another birthday; I am now officially older and fatter. Needless to say eating a cake with my name written on it is the only thing to look forward to on birthdays. All other milestones have been taken care of. I can drink (not that I prefer doing it though, but i can, if i want to), watch adult cinema (again, not very interested, but no one can stop me), make love, buy anti wrinkle cream. It’s all done.
Birthdays in my world are strictly for children, I mean for genuine juvenile minds. As a juvenile I loved birthdays because it was synonymous with presents and a remote possibility of getting a taste of colored (assorted) frostings.
My mother thought colored frostings were bad so got me dowdy cakes with whitish frostings and some useful fruit pieces on it. This is my mother for you, connecting morality with personal taste. Bright colored frosting is evil, cake decors are sin, buttercream is another word for devil. So what did I get? Some sponge with whipped cream and no goodies on top :-( But ofcourse, in the milestone years (like 5th or 10th birthday) my father compensated me with those delicious stuffs from the Flury's, but after a lot of opposition from my mother (now you know why I love my father so much?)
Anyways, my mother's opposition resulted in my fixation with colored frosting. I actually scrape off frosting from cakes eat the frosting and leave the cake behind, mind you only richly colored frosting. Talk about disturbed childhood.
Then came my inability to blow the candles and spitting all over the grumpy cake. My mother making inane comments like ‘parchish na keno!’ (Why can’t you do it?). As if blowing was something I should have been good at!!!!!
Anyway after all blows, song and cheer, I couldn’t cut the cake. Simple, I was bad at it. Keep in mind this is a kid we are talking about, it wasn’t natural for me to be good with knives. So every year my father helped me to cut the cake.
I loved the presents; I was a happy kid who liked anything that came in wrapped in a colorful paper. It didn’t matter what was inside, it took no effort to make me happy. I wasn’t old enough for real happiness then.
Birthdays also meant no studying, one evening when I was left alone with my toys, books or whatever booty I managed from the neighborhood. I didn’t have to study!
Talking of birthday presents my mother was always embarrassed when people got presents on my birthday. I have no clue why but people are always like that. Now as an adult I do that when someone gives me a present, ‘O you shouldn’t have, come on why did you?’ but I mean exactly the opposite, ‘Wow! A present do it more often. I love it. Give me anything. But keep giving’.
But my mother went a step ahead while inviting people she said, ‘Just come, don’t bring anything.’
This killed me.
A) I didn’t like most of the kids I invited.
B) I gave them presents on their birthdays. It's not fair.
Thankfully none of them listened to what my mother said.
Every birthday I sit and contemplate about bygone years and just one thought comes. It’s my birthday I don’t have to study today……I have moved on so much yet why, why can’t I just move on?
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Lalu's Magic
It is impossible not to be impressed by Lalu Prasad Yadav’s oratory skills. The Lok Sabha is stunned into silence, punctuated by roaring laughter. For all his corruption and obvious flaws, this man knows how to talk to a big bunch of politicians. Even Somnath Chatterjee is giggling. Especially as Lalu explains the nuances of the Hyde Act in his own inimitable way.
It’s also possible that the Opposition doesn’t have a grip on his accent, and doesn’t quite know how to react. I wish somebody was live blogging the Lok Sabha proceedings. This has to be one of the most engaging debates in recent years. While we are at it, take a look at Lalu's blog, and his opinions on the nuclear deal.
It’s also possible that the Opposition doesn’t have a grip on his accent, and doesn’t quite know how to react. I wish somebody was live blogging the Lok Sabha proceedings. This has to be one of the most engaging debates in recent years. While we are at it, take a look at Lalu's blog, and his opinions on the nuclear deal.
They claim the deal will mean we are forming a pact with the US. What pact?Not only does he blog, there’s also a podcast with each of the posts. I guess he basically talks into a recorder, and somebody sits down to translate it into a post. But still, an interesting effort.
Countries form pacts with each other. They forget that we have had pacts with
Russia and other countries. Power is must as we need it for infrastructure
development. Sloganeering will not help and roti (daily bread) will not tumble
from heaven.
If the US helps, we should take advantage and accept the help
and benefit from it. We have not pawned our independence or sovereignty. The
deal doesn’t mean becoming slaves of the US. If the US does not sell us, we can
buy uranium from Russia, France, Germany, Australia or any other country.
Love is...
Love is... thinking its a routine, when you talk to your love everyday at a particular point of time :-(
Long live love...
Long live love...
Monday, July 28, 2008
The Weekend...
Am back to office after an extremely lazy and a wonderful weekend. Lazy because mostly i was home and watched 7 movies in the lst 2.25 days. And wonderful because I spent some good quality time with my daughter doing our favorite things (ok, mostly mine) together. Feeling nostalgic about the weekend, and not letting the memories go ever, I have decided to blog about it, so that, history is recorded and never forgotten :-)
We started off on friday evening by watching Qayamat Se Qayamat Tak followed by Bhoothnath.
Saturday first half was the best part, when I went to pick up my daughter from her activity class... and hold your breadth, I drove all alone! Now, now, I know you all already know that I am an excellent driver, but what you dont know probably is that my daughter studies in the South Point School and parking your car infront of their building is worse than a nightmare! Somehow I managed, as luck was in my favor. I picked her up, completed some unfinished work related to her school, and then... we went shopping... not Mall haunting, but ACTUAL shopping - in Gariahat. We bought loads of stuffs, ranging from pillow covers and cushion covers, to her school uniform and socks, to our favorite items - trinkets - bracelets, clips, rubber bands, and the works! It was a hot summer (infact monsoon which is even worse with intensed humidity) afternoon but our spirit was unstoppable. And then to reward ourselves we went to Mainland China for a wholesome Lunch - and I literally mean, WHOLESOME. And after all these activities we came back home and straightway headed for a sound afternoon (make that late afternoon) nap.
Saturday evenning we watched Om Shanti Om together, her favorite movie. Saturday latenight I made her watch Maine Pyar Kiya, my favorite movie. Strangely enough, she actually liked the movie and my expert comments on Bhagyasree, the leading lady of the movie.
Sunday morning started off pretty late with a heavy breakfast followed by some household chores for me and homework for my daughter. And then we watched Chak De! India on SET MAX. This is one of the few movies I dont mind watching again and again. Since i had decided not to sleep in the afternoon, I started watching Pakeezah about which I shall blog later, and then in the evening I watched Shaurya. Followed by lunch I went off to dream, i mean sleep and after a wholesome 8 hourse of sleep and all charged for the week commencing today!!!
The weekend gone will be a memorable one for quite sometime to come. And now, sitting in office, am missing my daughter who am sure is feeling something similar doing her class work in school right at the moment...
We started off on friday evening by watching Qayamat Se Qayamat Tak followed by Bhoothnath.
Saturday first half was the best part, when I went to pick up my daughter from her activity class... and hold your breadth, I drove all alone! Now, now, I know you all already know that I am an excellent driver, but what you dont know probably is that my daughter studies in the South Point School and parking your car infront of their building is worse than a nightmare! Somehow I managed, as luck was in my favor. I picked her up, completed some unfinished work related to her school, and then... we went shopping... not Mall haunting, but ACTUAL shopping - in Gariahat. We bought loads of stuffs, ranging from pillow covers and cushion covers, to her school uniform and socks, to our favorite items - trinkets - bracelets, clips, rubber bands, and the works! It was a hot summer (infact monsoon which is even worse with intensed humidity) afternoon but our spirit was unstoppable. And then to reward ourselves we went to Mainland China for a wholesome Lunch - and I literally mean, WHOLESOME. And after all these activities we came back home and straightway headed for a sound afternoon (make that late afternoon) nap.
Saturday evenning we watched Om Shanti Om together, her favorite movie. Saturday latenight I made her watch Maine Pyar Kiya, my favorite movie. Strangely enough, she actually liked the movie and my expert comments on Bhagyasree, the leading lady of the movie.
Sunday morning started off pretty late with a heavy breakfast followed by some household chores for me and homework for my daughter. And then we watched Chak De! India on SET MAX. This is one of the few movies I dont mind watching again and again. Since i had decided not to sleep in the afternoon, I started watching Pakeezah about which I shall blog later, and then in the evening I watched Shaurya. Followed by lunch I went off to dream, i mean sleep and after a wholesome 8 hourse of sleep and all charged for the week commencing today!!!
The weekend gone will be a memorable one for quite sometime to come. And now, sitting in office, am missing my daughter who am sure is feeling something similar doing her class work in school right at the moment...
Friday, July 25, 2008
The Business of IPL T20
If anybody is wondering as to why I am writing a post on T20 after its over and almost forgotten, well here are my reasons
# I have nothing else to do
#I have run out of "topics"
# I came across this site, quite accidentally (http://www.petitiononline.com/savecric/petition.html)
In Hyderabad, there is a legendary restaurant called Paradise and they serve what is arguably one of the best Biriyanis in the whole world. Now what does that have to do with the Indian Premier League T20 tournament? Actually, nothing.
Also, in Kolkata, there is a Chinese restaurant named Mainland China where you can choose vegetables of your choice from a bar and the chef will, in one quick burst of flame, burn your pickings into a homogeneous, gelatinous goo and with a beaming grin say “Have a nice day“, and serve it to you with a bowl of rice . And what does this have to do with T20 cricket? Actually, nothing either. But you see, the delicate taste of a Biriyani comes from slow cooking and a careful selection of spices, unlike Wok-fried Vegetable Goo of mainland China, which tastes exactly like Wok-Fried Vegetable Goo from Denver, or for that matter, any other place, because as the saying goes, “Contempt (for patient cooking) breeds Familiarity (of taste)”. It is very hard to achieve subtlety of taste in Chinese fast food. And what does that have to do with T20?
Nothing, actually.
You see, I find it hard to write authoritative, hard-hitting, thought-provoking essays on the fine game of cricket because of the minor matter of qualifications. So instead, I will write about the BUSINESS of cricket. Many years ago, it used to be the business of CRICKET, and Kerry Packer made it the BUSINESS of CRICKET, but with the IPL, cricket has simply lost its uppercase. Not that I don’t enjoy T20. I do like Wok-fried vegetable goo once in a while, actually make that Wok-fried chicken goo for me please.
Back to the subject at hand, there are 3 stages in sports-capitalism
1. Exponentia, where a sudden surge in popularity of a particular sport makes hay for a lot of people
2. After a while, the big boys take over and pull no stops to squeeze money out of everywhere, such as from unearthly ticket prices, pay-per-view TV channels, advertising and merchandizing. Robber Baronia.
3. Once, all the cash cows have been milked, there is no choice but to sedate the cow and milk harder. We then have IPL T20. Adbominalia
Since we are talking strictly about T20, we shall restrict our discussion to Adbominalia.
# I have nothing else to do
#I have run out of "topics"
# I came across this site, quite accidentally (http://www.petitiononline.com/savecric/petition.html)
In Hyderabad, there is a legendary restaurant called Paradise and they serve what is arguably one of the best Biriyanis in the whole world. Now what does that have to do with the Indian Premier League T20 tournament? Actually, nothing.
Also, in Kolkata, there is a Chinese restaurant named Mainland China where you can choose vegetables of your choice from a bar and the chef will, in one quick burst of flame, burn your pickings into a homogeneous, gelatinous goo and with a beaming grin say “Have a nice day“, and serve it to you with a bowl of rice . And what does this have to do with T20 cricket? Actually, nothing either. But you see, the delicate taste of a Biriyani comes from slow cooking and a careful selection of spices, unlike Wok-fried Vegetable Goo of mainland China, which tastes exactly like Wok-Fried Vegetable Goo from Denver, or for that matter, any other place, because as the saying goes, “Contempt (for patient cooking) breeds Familiarity (of taste)”. It is very hard to achieve subtlety of taste in Chinese fast food. And what does that have to do with T20?
Nothing, actually.
You see, I find it hard to write authoritative, hard-hitting, thought-provoking essays on the fine game of cricket because of the minor matter of qualifications. So instead, I will write about the BUSINESS of cricket. Many years ago, it used to be the business of CRICKET, and Kerry Packer made it the BUSINESS of CRICKET, but with the IPL, cricket has simply lost its uppercase. Not that I don’t enjoy T20. I do like Wok-fried vegetable goo once in a while, actually make that Wok-fried chicken goo for me please.
Back to the subject at hand, there are 3 stages in sports-capitalism
1. Exponentia, where a sudden surge in popularity of a particular sport makes hay for a lot of people
2. After a while, the big boys take over and pull no stops to squeeze money out of everywhere, such as from unearthly ticket prices, pay-per-view TV channels, advertising and merchandizing. Robber Baronia.
3. Once, all the cash cows have been milked, there is no choice but to sedate the cow and milk harder. We then have IPL T20. Adbominalia
Since we are talking strictly about T20, we shall restrict our discussion to Adbominalia.
The Laws of Adbominalia
- Ads start once the 6th ball of an over (even if it is a no-ball) has been delivered.
- Ads finish only when the bowler has started his run up for the first ball of the subsequent over.
- Upwards of 50% of the screen is frequently taken over by animated ads. With sound. Louder than the commentators’ voices.
- There are animated, hyponosis-inducing ads on the boundary signboards.
- While there is a replay of a good shot, there will actually be an advertisement which will stop us from seeing the "replay" and it will say -"what a shot!" (Hello! thanks to your advertisement, I just missed the replay, so will accept what you have to say about the shot)
- Cricketers will soon resemble Formula One drivers in terms of being high-density real-estate for brand names .
But then hey, what gives me solace is the fact that I can still take refuge in the ad-less world of cricket commentary. I can still relax in the familiar cliches of Ravi Shastri, the soul-deadening boredom of Arun Lal or the sweet Carribean twang of Ian Bishop. Right? Right?
No.
Robin Jackman cannot say “Success” any more. It has to be “Citi Moment of success“
Ranjit Fernando cannot say “Six” any more. It is “DLF Super Six“.
Holy Arranged Matrimony! it’s now brand names embedded into commentary. So what else is possible now?
He gave it the Parryware Kitchen sink
He is an MDH Masala seasoned campaigner
India are Daewoo Motoring along now.
He has smashed that past LIC Extra Cover
Gilette Razor edged, and taken
That was a Sri Krishna sweetly timed shot.
But it does open up interesting possibilities. For one, I would like our commentators to start getting cheeky and say things like
Ganguly’s batting has been Citi sub-prime. Wink wink.
Rahul’s technique is completely bug free. Must be all the Pepsi. Wink wink.
Update: If you also are suppressing an irresistable desire to strangle me after reading this post, I sincerely suggest, you sign up for what actually prompted me to write this post and that is
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
An Open Letter from a Male Project Manager to Women reportees in IT
This letter was originally intercepted by undercover agents employed by the Pointy Haired IT Manager Committee For The Maintenance Of Status Quo and destroyed before it could be made public. But they left a proverbial copy at the printer. And in this post, I present that to you.
The author of this letter is a long time IT project manager and is said to have been fired from his job for suddenly contracting a Jim-Carrey-in-Liar-Liar-type disease.
Hello IT Leddies,
I must first introduce myself. I have been in IT for 8 years now. Why, you ask?
Reason#1
In the "inverse-relationship" graph of Pay-n-Effort, IT employee comes to a close second position, the first one being occupied by "Idle person with inherited money".
Reason#2
In the "inverse-relationship" graph of Skills Required-n-Career Growth, IT employee gets the first position, even beating "Idle person with inherited money".
That's why!!!
Anyways, but this letter is about something else. This is a Thank-you letter. In gratitude to all of you. As a Project Manager, I owe a large part of my career growth to all of you. One might even say that it came at your cost. I am indebted to you for letting me get away with a very subtle, hard-to-detect and practically ineradicable form of male chauvinism despite working in an industry that pats itself on its back for being more women-friendly than any other industry.
On an average, IT firms in India tend to have between 30-40% women on their rolls. So cumulatively, you are a pretty large group. But if we just take a count of the number of women who are Vice-presidents and above, it’s a ridiculously small number. So even if I was not a visiting professor at the Maximegalion Institute of Slowly and Painfully Working Out the Surprisingly Obvious (MISPWOSO), one of you could still look at these figures and say “Hey. C Here. Something is rotten in the state of Java”. But you don’t. He he. And I want to Thank-you for that.
Managing IT projects is hard enough, but not without these “guidelines” to “effectively” manage projects to make my life “easier”. These have been handed down to me by IT managers of previous generations.
The author of this letter is a long time IT project manager and is said to have been fired from his job for suddenly contracting a Jim-Carrey-in-Liar-Liar-type disease.
Hello IT Leddies,
I must first introduce myself. I have been in IT for 8 years now. Why, you ask?
Reason#1
In the "inverse-relationship" graph of Pay-n-Effort, IT employee comes to a close second position, the first one being occupied by "Idle person with inherited money".
Reason#2
In the "inverse-relationship" graph of Skills Required-n-Career Growth, IT employee gets the first position, even beating "Idle person with inherited money".
That's why!!!
Anyways, but this letter is about something else. This is a Thank-you letter. In gratitude to all of you. As a Project Manager, I owe a large part of my career growth to all of you. One might even say that it came at your cost. I am indebted to you for letting me get away with a very subtle, hard-to-detect and practically ineradicable form of male chauvinism despite working in an industry that pats itself on its back for being more women-friendly than any other industry.
On an average, IT firms in India tend to have between 30-40% women on their rolls. So cumulatively, you are a pretty large group. But if we just take a count of the number of women who are Vice-presidents and above, it’s a ridiculously small number. So even if I was not a visiting professor at the Maximegalion Institute of Slowly and Painfully Working Out the Surprisingly Obvious (MISPWOSO), one of you could still look at these figures and say “Hey. C Here. Something is rotten in the state of Java”. But you don’t. He he. And I want to Thank-you for that.
Managing IT projects is hard enough, but not without these “guidelines” to “effectively” manage projects to make my life “easier”. These have been handed down to me by IT managers of previous generations.
- If you are a girl, you can be put in testing or quality assurance. Guys will generally decline or threaten to quit if offered these positions. So when you need to find 100 people (by the proverbial EOD) to do testing, QA, DB administration and configuration management (all considered by guys to be dead-end jobs), it is so easy to sweet talk you into “how strategically important this is for you (company)”, herd you in, and start the billing. So thank-you.
- If you are a girl over 25 years old and single, I can coolly consider you a risk from a resource planning perspective because you could get hitched any time, and marriage usually tends to involve one of
- Resignation, because your in-laws don’t like working girls.
- You are likely to decline abroad opportunities because hey, i know since 99.99% chances are that, your husband is not going to quit his job to join you.
- You are likely to become pregnant any time and therefore a potential 3 month billing-loss candidate as far as I am concerned.If your would-be works in another city, chances are, you will demand a transfer, and HR departments in IT companies hate transfers because their promotions and bonuses depend entirely on preventing them.
So I thank you for letting me simplify planning by letting me apply the rule - “Girls over 25 and single, keep them offshore in non-critical positions, preferably in QA, testing, DB/Server admin and configuration management”. My brain works much better when I don’t have to consider too many parameters. And I have you to thank for that.
Promotions are difficult things to handle, but you make that easy for me as well.
- I hardly ever need to worry about offering you “Architect” or "Consultant in implementation" positions, because
- My boys club mates tell me that drawing boxes in powerpoint slides and writing a bunch of lies in concise bullet points is not something girls can do well. Everybody in my peer Project Managers’ group tells me that men are better and more convincing liars and can coolly and calmly justify wrong decisions, something an architect or a consultant needs to do all the time.
- In any case, you need to be about 28 or so before you become an architect, by which time, you are probably married and have kids and cannot make 1-month trips abroad or stay back in office till 1 am in the night, and therefore even if you are perfectly capable of being smart and productive in the 8 hours you work in a day, I don’t need to promote you. I thank you for letting me encourage a culture of “Work more, not work smart”. It’s simpler you know. Promote anybody who sends me emails at 1 am in the night.
- Guys demand and fight for higher performance ratings and promotions like a pack of hyenas over a deer carcass. You generally do not. Therefore it saves me half the trouble. I take most of your promotions and hand them out to guys who couldn’t print “hello world” even with pencil and paper. I thank you for helping me meet my performance curve targets by allowing me to ignore most of you.
- It is sooo easy to do performance appraisals for you girls ya. All I need to do is whip out my standard “You need to involve yourself in more value-adding activities outside of your project work” and give you a lesser rating than I would give the trained male chimps who code in my project. When I was young, I used to get psyched by all your crying and stuff. But with experience I have now learned that crying at performance review meetings is, in fact, a sign that you have accepted what has been conferred. So I thank for you for the clear and precise signal. Men are so tricky, you know. At performance review meetings, it’s hard for me to make out if they are planning to kill puppies post-meeting or strangle my neck, or both.
- Your chances of becoming a project leader entirely hinge on how the men in your group will receive your promotion. If there are male peers in your group, you stand no chance, unless there are an equal number of opportunities. Promoting a girl when an (albeit less qualified) male peer is available could cause the guy to threaten to resign and therefore why risk that, eh? It keeps my HR manager happy when the men in my team are happy with their performance ratings and promotions. I thank you for letting me consider your promotion only when the men in your group are substantially younger to you.
Well. In short, I thank you for enabling the subtlety of this whole thing. Those of you who do grow in your careers, don’t think this is a problem, and the vast majority of you who don’t grow, also don’t have a problem, because you take the whole marriage-first-career-later thing in your stride. Good for you. And for me. He he. So in short, nobody will actually admit that there is a problem. It’s a perfect wedding between the established social system of male-centricity and professional project/career planning convenience, something that is likely to keep a lot of you out of Vice-president posts for years to come.
I am so lucky that none of you come and ask me why I make the resourcing and planning decisions I make. Because, you know, you can put me in a spot. You can refuse dead-end positions if you wish to. IT today has a serious manpower supply problem, and yet, you make it so easy by being all of the above and more. Every IT manager dreams about team members who are complete push overs. And most of you IT girls are like "our dreams come true" for us. You can’t get fired for being troublesome. Hell, you just can’t get fired nowadays. Companies are fighting hard to retain staff, and yet, you girls silently accept what you are given. Such a comfort for me ya.
The top companies in India have unholy profit margins. And you girls help in a big way. I can get away with taking most of your promotions and appraisal ratings and passing a part of them to the men. So the balance? That’s the grin you see on every shareholder’s face.
Thank You.
ps: Thank you very much.
pps: Thank you very very much.
An ode to Book Cricket
Had been toying with the idea of this post for long - atlast could stop the procastination and get started with it...
For some reason, the IPL T20 tournament reminded me of something I used to be passionate about many years ago.
More than a decade ago, a game died, and there was sadly nobody to write a eulogy. This is a humble attempt to remember that great game, its classy origins and the treacherous road to its eventual demise.
The game was called Book Cricket. Those of you who are young (in other words, those of you who spell What as Wat and Anyways as NEwez) may not be aware that such a game existed. But it did, and it held its own against fierce rivals such as Hand Cricket, French Cricket and the rather bowler-friendly One-bounce-out Cricket.
The unique advantage Book Cricket had was its ability to fill up those dreadfully boring periods of time all of us were forced to waste in school classrooms, unlike the other games which required outdoor space and time. The classic version of this game involved a large, voluminous book (hereinafter referred to as The Book) being randomly opened and the last digit of the page number being scrutinized like Dickie Bird pondering over a leg-before decision. 2, 4 and 6 counted as they were, and 8 counted as 1 run. A page number ending in 0 was of course out. Games were nerve wracking with adrenaline fuelled excitement with complex strategic manoeuvres being played out between opponents.
There were the Openers (the ones who opened The Book first) and the Middle-Order (players who preferred opening The Book right down the middle, as if it had magical powers that kept the dreaded zero-ending page numbers away) and the annoying Accumulators (who would fold certain pages that end in a 6 and keep opening that very page till somebody realized that something was rotten in the state of CBSE pass mark). Games lasted 2 innings and the final innings was usually a spine tingling affair, and often some idiot would get over-excited and attract the attention of the teacher who was busy trying to force feed us “4 key factors that resulted in World War 1“.
There were many choices for The Book, but my personal favourite was Wren and Martin. But with increased teacher vigilance, exam pressures and smaller books, the longer version of Book Cricket started to wane in popularity. Time suddenly became money and all that sort of thing, and Book Cricket had to evolve the OMI format - The One Minute International. Each team had 30 openings of The Book, and the highest scorer won. It had little of the finesse of the longer version with careful, well-thought out strategies being thrown to the dogs and unbridled aggression becoming more and more popular. The Book started taking a good amount of wear and tear as the slam-bang version of the game introduced a new brand of Openers, called Pinch-Tearers, who had the nasty habit of unleashing a high pressure separation of pages using their thumbs and index fingers in rapid succession.
But the advent of the computer and the internet dealt another blow to this game. Who wanted to be flipping pages when one could use the special six-hit button on Codemasters’ Brian Lara Cricket? The BCCI (Book Cricketers Council of India) tried desperate measures. They shorted the game even more. 5 page flips per team, and it was even branded as F5. It even encouraged the use of magazines such as Stardust and Filmfare as The Book, so that our players could additionally have the pleasure of staring at Kimi Katkar and Pooja Bedi (yes, they were young and happenning at our times) when they opened a page.
But the final death knell was sounded when companies was invited to advertise in The Book. Players now had to look at advertisements on the pages they opened. Page numbers started carrying subliminal brand messages, like 24 nutrients in Complan, 300 percent purity in Senco Gold etc. The game became secondary, as players spent more and more time discussing the finer aspects of Kimi Katkar’s anatomy and becoming consumerist zombies staring at brand messages all day.
The game then died.
For some reason, the IPL T20 tournament reminded me of something I used to be passionate about many years ago.
More than a decade ago, a game died, and there was sadly nobody to write a eulogy. This is a humble attempt to remember that great game, its classy origins and the treacherous road to its eventual demise.
The game was called Book Cricket. Those of you who are young (in other words, those of you who spell What as Wat and Anyways as NEwez) may not be aware that such a game existed. But it did, and it held its own against fierce rivals such as Hand Cricket, French Cricket and the rather bowler-friendly One-bounce-out Cricket.
The unique advantage Book Cricket had was its ability to fill up those dreadfully boring periods of time all of us were forced to waste in school classrooms, unlike the other games which required outdoor space and time. The classic version of this game involved a large, voluminous book (hereinafter referred to as The Book) being randomly opened and the last digit of the page number being scrutinized like Dickie Bird pondering over a leg-before decision. 2, 4 and 6 counted as they were, and 8 counted as 1 run. A page number ending in 0 was of course out. Games were nerve wracking with adrenaline fuelled excitement with complex strategic manoeuvres being played out between opponents.
There were the Openers (the ones who opened The Book first) and the Middle-Order (players who preferred opening The Book right down the middle, as if it had magical powers that kept the dreaded zero-ending page numbers away) and the annoying Accumulators (who would fold certain pages that end in a 6 and keep opening that very page till somebody realized that something was rotten in the state of CBSE pass mark). Games lasted 2 innings and the final innings was usually a spine tingling affair, and often some idiot would get over-excited and attract the attention of the teacher who was busy trying to force feed us “4 key factors that resulted in World War 1“.
There were many choices for The Book, but my personal favourite was Wren and Martin. But with increased teacher vigilance, exam pressures and smaller books, the longer version of Book Cricket started to wane in popularity. Time suddenly became money and all that sort of thing, and Book Cricket had to evolve the OMI format - The One Minute International. Each team had 30 openings of The Book, and the highest scorer won. It had little of the finesse of the longer version with careful, well-thought out strategies being thrown to the dogs and unbridled aggression becoming more and more popular. The Book started taking a good amount of wear and tear as the slam-bang version of the game introduced a new brand of Openers, called Pinch-Tearers, who had the nasty habit of unleashing a high pressure separation of pages using their thumbs and index fingers in rapid succession.
But the advent of the computer and the internet dealt another blow to this game. Who wanted to be flipping pages when one could use the special six-hit button on Codemasters’ Brian Lara Cricket? The BCCI (Book Cricketers Council of India) tried desperate measures. They shorted the game even more. 5 page flips per team, and it was even branded as F5. It even encouraged the use of magazines such as Stardust and Filmfare as The Book, so that our players could additionally have the pleasure of staring at Kimi Katkar and Pooja Bedi (yes, they were young and happenning at our times) when they opened a page.
But the final death knell was sounded when companies was invited to advertise in The Book. Players now had to look at advertisements on the pages they opened. Page numbers started carrying subliminal brand messages, like 24 nutrients in Complan, 300 percent purity in Senco Gold etc. The game became secondary, as players spent more and more time discussing the finer aspects of Kimi Katkar’s anatomy and becoming consumerist zombies staring at brand messages all day.
The game then died.
Demonstrating Marriage
The personal is political, we hear from Feminist movements around the world. Until I got married, I never quite realized the truth of this statement. Until I got married, I was just a “person”. Sure, being a woman affected me in some specific gendered ways. Being a woman means that one has to hesitate to walk out alone on the street after 9 o’clock. Being a woman means that using public transport doesn’t just involve questions of time or cost. All of this is indeed personal. But, but, but. I still never realized fully to what extent very personal decisions would be affected, until I got married.
One of the things which really struck me after getting married, was being expected to wear sindoor and unnecessary ornaments in almost every part of my body, starting from neck, to ears, to hands. I mean, dressing up occassionally with jewelleries is ok, but why wear a thick, heavy chain that irritates my neck and serves no obvious function? Or the "chudiyaan" which makes you so uncomfortable while sleeping? The explanations are many. It ensures the long life of the husband (Sindoor and Mangalsutra) . It is ‘our custom’ and therefore should be followed. Society expects you to wear it. It ‘demonstrates’ that you are married.
Let’s take these one by one. It ensures the long life of the husband. To any sane, rational mind, of course, this will come across as pure rubbish. Does the husband’s life literally hang on a thread or some sindoor on your forhead? What about cultures that don’t have these concepts? Do their men all die untimely deaths? When we pose such questions, elders become defensive and start saying that “it’s all a question of belief!” Well, I certainly don’t believe. More importantly, what about the wife’s long life? Who is praying for that? To me, the Mangalsutra/Sindoor represents the highly unequal power play of traditional marriages, where it was really the husband’s life which mattered and the wife was seen as an adjunct.
Next, it is ‘our custom’ and therefore should be followed. What is a custom? What infact is Culture? I don’t see culture as something that is inherently valuable, for its own sake. Any culture is something that is formed over a long period of time, influenced by the needs of the people at the time. Once upon a time, our ancestors lived in caves. Surely they had their own needs, their own lifestyle, perhaps even their own music, dance, rituals. If Culture is unchangeable, then we should all still be dressed in bark and skin. The logical answer to this would be that cultures change since human beings themselves are dynamic and never content with any one state for long. Why then should we retain practices that have no meaning, simply because they claim to represent some ideal, ancient custom?
Quite often, it seems as though the burden of transmitting culture is to be borne purely by women. Many conservative colleges, for e.g. will not allow female students to wear western clothes, on the grounds that they wish to preserve ‘Indian culture’ and ‘decency’. It never occurs to them, that male students, and men in general, wear shirts and trousers, Western articles of clothing, as a default. Somehow, men’s clothing is seen as neutral, it is only women’s clothing that becomes a battleground. Is this because women are somehow seen as ‘belonging’ to society whereas men are free agents, representative only of themselves? Women must therefore conform to some standard, set by the ideal ‘Bharatiya Nari’, while men only need to think of their own convenience. (Note, I am not advocating wearing Indian or Western style clothes, just that it is ridiculous to imbue them with so much meaning)
Let’s get back to the last two reasons for wearing the Mangalsutra, or putting Sindoor etc. Society expects you to wear it and it ‘demonstrates’ that you are married. These are what really, really get my goat. The first of these is more easily dismissed - sure, society expects a lot of stuff, but an individual can choose to ignore them in many cases. The second one, in my opinion, really gets to the heart of the matter. Demonstrating that one is married. Why? So that other predatory males don’t pounce on you ? So that you have a badge identifying yourself as the property of your husband? This whole notion of demonstration makes me very uncomfortable. A woman is so much more than a wife. Even as she gets married, she continues to play many other roles. She continues to work, in many cases. She continues to pursue her interests. She continues to be a daughter, a sister, someone’s favourite aunt. None of those roles ask for badges. Even if we agree that this new bond with a life partner is ‘more’ special, it doesn’t make sense that it needs an announcement to the world at large. Your family and friends know that you’re married, right? As for safety, men who indulge in sexual harassment are not going to be deterred by a woman’s marital status. Nor should we need to crave protection on the grounds of being married. And if you think about it a little deeply, why is it really important to tag oneself as being attached? Don’t ‘you’ the individual deserve respect, irrespective of your marital status?
In the past, there was a notion that a man took charge of his wife. Women did not have an income of their own nor did they own property, for the most part. Economically, it made sense to pray for the long life of the husband, out of sheer selfishness, if not out of love! Today, (educated women atleast) we don’t ‘need’ our husbands to stay alive - we want them to stay alive because we love them, just as much as they want us to have a long and fulfilling life. Isn’t it then time to drop a highly one-sided affair, a relic of the past where women desperately ‘needed’ their men?
When I got married, I wasn’t bold enough to dispense with the rituals altogether. I could not bring myself to say, I am not a cow that you need to rope me in! I wish I had the courage to do that. Unfortunately, such a sacred aura is built up around the sindur and ornaments that it is difficult to stand up to the elders in the family and proclaim that it is rubbish. But yes, I believe its time we came up with a new marriage format that is Indian, yet more egalitarian.
Some of you may perhaps think, what is the harm in it? Even if it doesn’t confer any benefits, surely it doesn’t do any harm either? I actually believe that it does. To me, the mangalsutra/sindoor symbolizes all that is wrong with the way we view marriage in a woman’s life. Finding the right person and building a life together, are no doubt, wonderful things. But Marriage is not the ultimate aim of a woman’s life. It should not be accorded the importance it currently does. The Mangalsutra/Sindoor is the ultimate symbol of this supposedly ultimate goal of a woman’s life. This is why widows are denied the right to wear it. Just as it is a symbol of achievement as viewed for a woman traditionally, it is also a symbol of deprivation, in its absence. Marriage is not about demonstarting that you’ve joined a particular select club. A woman should not have to demonstrate how she has ‘changed’ after marriage. She continues to be the person she always was, and its educated, urban women like us who will need to bring about this change. Some people say, “it’s my choice”. Sure, but we need to think about the context in which our choices are made. I have only one rebuttal to the choice argument. Did your husband feel the need to “choose” a culturally relevant, symbol of marriage for himself? In all likelihood, no. (No, wedding rings mostly don’t apply in the Indian context). Like men’s clothing and so many other things, marriage is in a sense neutral for men - they continue to play the roles they did without any fanfare to introduce this additional role. I look at all these alovely ornaments and even Sindoor as accessories. Yes, I would love to wear them when am clad in traditional attires, say during some Puja, but definitely I would not wear them when am coming to office, wearing a formal suit, may be? And these should not be forced on any women, if they are wearing out of their own choice - free will - then no issues.
One of the things which really struck me after getting married, was being expected to wear sindoor and unnecessary ornaments in almost every part of my body, starting from neck, to ears, to hands. I mean, dressing up occassionally with jewelleries is ok, but why wear a thick, heavy chain that irritates my neck and serves no obvious function? Or the "chudiyaan" which makes you so uncomfortable while sleeping? The explanations are many. It ensures the long life of the husband (Sindoor and Mangalsutra) . It is ‘our custom’ and therefore should be followed. Society expects you to wear it. It ‘demonstrates’ that you are married.
Let’s take these one by one. It ensures the long life of the husband. To any sane, rational mind, of course, this will come across as pure rubbish. Does the husband’s life literally hang on a thread or some sindoor on your forhead? What about cultures that don’t have these concepts? Do their men all die untimely deaths? When we pose such questions, elders become defensive and start saying that “it’s all a question of belief!” Well, I certainly don’t believe. More importantly, what about the wife’s long life? Who is praying for that? To me, the Mangalsutra/Sindoor represents the highly unequal power play of traditional marriages, where it was really the husband’s life which mattered and the wife was seen as an adjunct.
Next, it is ‘our custom’ and therefore should be followed. What is a custom? What infact is Culture? I don’t see culture as something that is inherently valuable, for its own sake. Any culture is something that is formed over a long period of time, influenced by the needs of the people at the time. Once upon a time, our ancestors lived in caves. Surely they had their own needs, their own lifestyle, perhaps even their own music, dance, rituals. If Culture is unchangeable, then we should all still be dressed in bark and skin. The logical answer to this would be that cultures change since human beings themselves are dynamic and never content with any one state for long. Why then should we retain practices that have no meaning, simply because they claim to represent some ideal, ancient custom?
Quite often, it seems as though the burden of transmitting culture is to be borne purely by women. Many conservative colleges, for e.g. will not allow female students to wear western clothes, on the grounds that they wish to preserve ‘Indian culture’ and ‘decency’. It never occurs to them, that male students, and men in general, wear shirts and trousers, Western articles of clothing, as a default. Somehow, men’s clothing is seen as neutral, it is only women’s clothing that becomes a battleground. Is this because women are somehow seen as ‘belonging’ to society whereas men are free agents, representative only of themselves? Women must therefore conform to some standard, set by the ideal ‘Bharatiya Nari’, while men only need to think of their own convenience. (Note, I am not advocating wearing Indian or Western style clothes, just that it is ridiculous to imbue them with so much meaning)
Let’s get back to the last two reasons for wearing the Mangalsutra, or putting Sindoor etc. Society expects you to wear it and it ‘demonstrates’ that you are married. These are what really, really get my goat. The first of these is more easily dismissed - sure, society expects a lot of stuff, but an individual can choose to ignore them in many cases. The second one, in my opinion, really gets to the heart of the matter. Demonstrating that one is married. Why? So that other predatory males don’t pounce on you ? So that you have a badge identifying yourself as the property of your husband? This whole notion of demonstration makes me very uncomfortable. A woman is so much more than a wife. Even as she gets married, she continues to play many other roles. She continues to work, in many cases. She continues to pursue her interests. She continues to be a daughter, a sister, someone’s favourite aunt. None of those roles ask for badges. Even if we agree that this new bond with a life partner is ‘more’ special, it doesn’t make sense that it needs an announcement to the world at large. Your family and friends know that you’re married, right? As for safety, men who indulge in sexual harassment are not going to be deterred by a woman’s marital status. Nor should we need to crave protection on the grounds of being married. And if you think about it a little deeply, why is it really important to tag oneself as being attached? Don’t ‘you’ the individual deserve respect, irrespective of your marital status?
In the past, there was a notion that a man took charge of his wife. Women did not have an income of their own nor did they own property, for the most part. Economically, it made sense to pray for the long life of the husband, out of sheer selfishness, if not out of love! Today, (educated women atleast) we don’t ‘need’ our husbands to stay alive - we want them to stay alive because we love them, just as much as they want us to have a long and fulfilling life. Isn’t it then time to drop a highly one-sided affair, a relic of the past where women desperately ‘needed’ their men?
When I got married, I wasn’t bold enough to dispense with the rituals altogether. I could not bring myself to say, I am not a cow that you need to rope me in! I wish I had the courage to do that. Unfortunately, such a sacred aura is built up around the sindur and ornaments that it is difficult to stand up to the elders in the family and proclaim that it is rubbish. But yes, I believe its time we came up with a new marriage format that is Indian, yet more egalitarian.
Some of you may perhaps think, what is the harm in it? Even if it doesn’t confer any benefits, surely it doesn’t do any harm either? I actually believe that it does. To me, the mangalsutra/sindoor symbolizes all that is wrong with the way we view marriage in a woman’s life. Finding the right person and building a life together, are no doubt, wonderful things. But Marriage is not the ultimate aim of a woman’s life. It should not be accorded the importance it currently does. The Mangalsutra/Sindoor is the ultimate symbol of this supposedly ultimate goal of a woman’s life. This is why widows are denied the right to wear it. Just as it is a symbol of achievement as viewed for a woman traditionally, it is also a symbol of deprivation, in its absence. Marriage is not about demonstarting that you’ve joined a particular select club. A woman should not have to demonstrate how she has ‘changed’ after marriage. She continues to be the person she always was, and its educated, urban women like us who will need to bring about this change. Some people say, “it’s my choice”. Sure, but we need to think about the context in which our choices are made. I have only one rebuttal to the choice argument. Did your husband feel the need to “choose” a culturally relevant, symbol of marriage for himself? In all likelihood, no. (No, wedding rings mostly don’t apply in the Indian context). Like men’s clothing and so many other things, marriage is in a sense neutral for men - they continue to play the roles they did without any fanfare to introduce this additional role. I look at all these alovely ornaments and even Sindoor as accessories. Yes, I would love to wear them when am clad in traditional attires, say during some Puja, but definitely I would not wear them when am coming to office, wearing a formal suit, may be? And these should not be forced on any women, if they are wearing out of their own choice - free will - then no issues.
Marriage...
I will in no way deny that marriage is a legal, economic and dominant social institution, which provides a veritable treasure trove of rights, privileges and responsibilities and it is also a significant cultural symbol of sorts. I mean, why wouldn’t anybody want to marry? Surely, it is understandable that people would want to partake in it. But that is definitely not to say that it is without terrific flaws. For all the progressive ideals we frame in our minds as to the division of labor, the surname, work etc. and all the rosy ‘everything will be shared equally between both of us’ type plans, it never really happens, does it? Consciously, or unconsciously we fall back into the age old trap of performing duties which comply with heavily gendered roles and power differentials laid out for us by cultural and societal norms and practices.
And this brings me to,
Reason number 1: Marriage is terribly male-friendly.
It is. Internalized gender role-ing will tell me otherwise, but after a long and hard struggle with my inner demons, I’ve come to realize that marriage does in fact, overwhelmingly favor the guy. On the outset, it seems like we have entered into an age of elysian gender equality within marriage where men and women discuss equal sharing of duties and suchlike and stick to their plans, but that hardly is the case. Once things start sliding into gendered role and power differentials typifying the ‘traditional’ marriage, we tell ourselves that marriage is work, we tell ourselves to be realistic, we fit our brains around that power differential which heavily favors the male, and we settle.
Reason number 2: It is up to the women to make that choice to stay in the workforce or not.
Take childbirth, for instance. Irrespective of the job a woman is in, if there is a question of one spouse leaving his/her respective job to care for the child, most of the damn time, it is the woman who leaves her job. Childbirth just happens to be an extreme example. Take any circumstance which requires one spouse to leave her/his job. To no one’s surprise, it is the woman who usually forgoes her job. Now I do know that most women will say that it is their choice. But we have to look at the cultural relativism and the gendered power equations behind that choice, because most women will simply respond to an internalized gendering of power in such situations and call it their choice.
And yes, you can show me examples of stay-at-home dads’ who opt out of the workforce to take care of their kids. But the percentage of men who do actually opt out are abysmally low, no thanks to the power differential yet again, and the levels of ridicule such men face generally and in terms of them being called ‘henpecked’, ‘pussy whipped’ ‘husband to a ball-buster’ and so on, mostly by other men, extended family and even women, in some cases.
Reason number 3: The ‘wife and mother’ ideal.
Let me state on the outset that I have nothing against women who are good wives and mothers. I do have a problem however with the enormous pressure being ladled upon women, generation after generation to be the perfect wife and the mother, where both require a great deal of subservience on part of the woman, by societal and cultural standards.
A married woman is principally judged by how well she balances and performs her wifely and motherly duties, and there is little or no scope for anything related to her individuality. While in severe contrast, a married man is not judged by how he services his wife, but how best he establishes his individual hegemony in his household, how best he climbs up the ladder of success. Popular models of femininity, compliance and sexuality are built upon this unattainable ‘wife and mother’ ideal, over and over again and shoved down every women’s’ throats, lest they defy the norm and dare to act contrarily.
And I can’t take it anymore.
Reason number 4: The ol’ ball and chain.
Why is marriage supposedly the centre of a woman’s existence? Why isn’t it the centre of a man’s existence? But no, it never was, it never is, and it never will be. The wedding is always and forever will be a ‘bride’ thing, because it’s her day, a day when she gets to be the princess, a concept which I find, extremely problematic partly cause' all that the guy is expected to do, is show up. Because you see, when a guy is engaged to be married, he is perceived to have somehow lost his freedom (while actually I feel, its just the other way round!), that the life ahead of him is sure to be filled with drudgery and venal boredom in anticipation of you know, being tied down to the ol’ ball and chain.
And then there is the pukeworthy sleaziness of the bachelor party. Spending the rest of your life with a person who desperately celebrates his last day as a free man by entertaining himself with contorting naked women, should surely paint a very pathetic picture in your mind as to how your near-ambrosial future would be.
And this brings me to,
Reason number 1: Marriage is terribly male-friendly.
It is. Internalized gender role-ing will tell me otherwise, but after a long and hard struggle with my inner demons, I’ve come to realize that marriage does in fact, overwhelmingly favor the guy. On the outset, it seems like we have entered into an age of elysian gender equality within marriage where men and women discuss equal sharing of duties and suchlike and stick to their plans, but that hardly is the case. Once things start sliding into gendered role and power differentials typifying the ‘traditional’ marriage, we tell ourselves that marriage is work, we tell ourselves to be realistic, we fit our brains around that power differential which heavily favors the male, and we settle.
Reason number 2: It is up to the women to make that choice to stay in the workforce or not.
Take childbirth, for instance. Irrespective of the job a woman is in, if there is a question of one spouse leaving his/her respective job to care for the child, most of the damn time, it is the woman who leaves her job. Childbirth just happens to be an extreme example. Take any circumstance which requires one spouse to leave her/his job. To no one’s surprise, it is the woman who usually forgoes her job. Now I do know that most women will say that it is their choice. But we have to look at the cultural relativism and the gendered power equations behind that choice, because most women will simply respond to an internalized gendering of power in such situations and call it their choice.
And yes, you can show me examples of stay-at-home dads’ who opt out of the workforce to take care of their kids. But the percentage of men who do actually opt out are abysmally low, no thanks to the power differential yet again, and the levels of ridicule such men face generally and in terms of them being called ‘henpecked’, ‘pussy whipped’ ‘husband to a ball-buster’ and so on, mostly by other men, extended family and even women, in some cases.
Reason number 3: The ‘wife and mother’ ideal.
Let me state on the outset that I have nothing against women who are good wives and mothers. I do have a problem however with the enormous pressure being ladled upon women, generation after generation to be the perfect wife and the mother, where both require a great deal of subservience on part of the woman, by societal and cultural standards.
A married woman is principally judged by how well she balances and performs her wifely and motherly duties, and there is little or no scope for anything related to her individuality. While in severe contrast, a married man is not judged by how he services his wife, but how best he establishes his individual hegemony in his household, how best he climbs up the ladder of success. Popular models of femininity, compliance and sexuality are built upon this unattainable ‘wife and mother’ ideal, over and over again and shoved down every women’s’ throats, lest they defy the norm and dare to act contrarily.
And I can’t take it anymore.
Reason number 4: The ol’ ball and chain.
Why is marriage supposedly the centre of a woman’s existence? Why isn’t it the centre of a man’s existence? But no, it never was, it never is, and it never will be. The wedding is always and forever will be a ‘bride’ thing, because it’s her day, a day when she gets to be the princess, a concept which I find, extremely problematic partly cause' all that the guy is expected to do, is show up. Because you see, when a guy is engaged to be married, he is perceived to have somehow lost his freedom (while actually I feel, its just the other way round!), that the life ahead of him is sure to be filled with drudgery and venal boredom in anticipation of you know, being tied down to the ol’ ball and chain.
And then there is the pukeworthy sleaziness of the bachelor party. Spending the rest of your life with a person who desperately celebrates his last day as a free man by entertaining himself with contorting naked women, should surely paint a very pathetic picture in your mind as to how your near-ambrosial future would be.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Honesty...
Why can't we always speak up the truth? Atleast to the ones we love and care about? Who matter to us? Who are important to us? To cut this short, why do we lie? Or why do we hide the truth?
Actually, I was wondering that from when did I start hiding truth, or telling lies... 5 years? 8 years? 10 years? I dont remember. I also dont remeber what made me lie for the first time. But today when I look back I repent all the lies I have uttered till date - be it in school, at home, to friends, or whatever...
Fear is a big factor for which we end up telling a lie. We are afraid of the consequences. I remember, while in school once I had faired very poorly in a semester and ranked 19th! I was very scared of the consequences back home, and out of fear, I had rubbed off the "1" in the rank section and made it "9"th al by myself. Went back home, got the report card signed and before submitting it back to school, I again added the "1" thus making it 19th!!! And all this at the age of 10! Now when I look back at this incident of my life, I wonder, how as a 10year old girl, I had all the guts to take ownership of such an act (if I got caught doing that, I could have well been suspended from my school), but didnot have the courage enough to take the ownership of the bad performance of mine, and face my father. I feel ashamed of myself for that henious act of mine. Ofcourse, that time, I didnt even realise that it was a henious act on my part. I only realized it over time with more maturity.
I often had inner conflict within myself - and one day i took all the courage to go up to my father and told him what I did. Ofcourse, it was years later, Baba didnot say anything to me, for the simple reason it was not relevant at that point of time, but it helped me release my burden - the burden that I was carrying, and the burden that was getting heavier and heavier... And thats when I realised only if I could have gathered the courage and faced the consequence then - what would have happened? Baba would have scolded me...gave me punishment... more stringent study routine I had to follow... I mean only if I had spoken the truth then, it would have saved me all the sleepless nights, and inner conflicts I had for so many years, na?
We often tell lies because we fear the consequence - infact I would go to the extent of saying that we ASSUME a consequence and we fear that ASSUMPTION - because whatever the consequence would be - you can only guess, you cant be sure. And we lack the courage of facing something we are not even sure of... this is just being an escapist.
I never liked telling lies. But even then I did...many times. But now I have decided that I will minimise my lies and eventually make it zero! Yes, one day I will stop lying altogether. One thing I always tell my daughter is that do not lie ever...may be through her I want to live the ideal life I dream of - a life without any lie. She listens to me and she doesnt utter a single lie throughout the day (and yes, I can vouch for it!). Having taught her the value of truth, today I prmise myself that I will not lie as well... and if in any situation, am forced to hide a truth - I will keep shut, but not utter a lie... I hope I can live upto this promise of mine... Its important to me to have a good night's sleep.
The journey from the Womb to the Tomb
I am an Indian woman. And I am extremely glad to be alive.
Ten million girls have been wiped out in the last two decades in India. Unbelievable? May be. But nevertheless, run the number in your head a few times and let it sink in. 10,000,000. One followed by seven zeroes! How I WISH this wasn't true. But unfortunately it is. So, I should be thanking my lucky stars for being alive, shouldn't I? Hence, the beginning statement...
I am an Indian woman. And I am extremely glad to be alive.
Time and again, I always felt that the only mistake I’ve committed in my life is being born a woman. Since I am a woman, I’m a liability, I will not carry on the bloodline of the family (whatever the hell that means), I will not support my poor ailing parents when they are in the throes of their second childhood, and I am extremely ‘expensive’ (for want of a better word) because my poor parents probably had to shell out excessive amounts of dowry for their cow...ooops... daughter, and come to think of it I'll be better off as a man innit'?
Probably, those of you who know me and my background would think my above statement as an exaggeration. Ofcourse, my parents and my family are nice folks and they do not subscribe to the boorish views like the ones I have mentioned above (And no, they didn't have to pay any dowry to marry me off, and neither my husband and his family claimed any). BUT, to the majority of Indian women, educated or otherwise, the above statement would not be an exaggeration!
So what do you do, if you are faced with the errr........ 'burden' of giving birth to a girl? Pshaw! What an elementary question! Well, get rid of her of course! Use technology (foeticide) to discreetly do the deed if you belong to middle class families, or if you're not so lucky, give birth to the girl and then feed poison (infanticide) to the newborn baby! The dastardly deed is done!
So now that we have established that foeticide- http://www.hinduonnet.com/fline/fl1912/19120420.htm and infanticide-http://www.gendercide.org/case_infanticide.html ALONE has contributed to ten million girls being obliterated, and the sex ratio has successfully fallen steadily from 962 women to every 1000 boys in 1981, to 927 girls to every 1000 boys in 2002; has the horribly skewed sex ratio helped in actually improving the abhorrent status of women in India?
The answer is a big, fat, NO. Yet again, unscrupulous men are making a mockery of this gender disparity by trading women around as if they were commodities. Women are possessions remember? Now, the ever enterprising vermins in Haryana, where female foeticide and infanticide have reached unmitigated heights, are making use of the gender dissimilitude to propagate a thriving business in "sexual brides", and yes, you heard me right. Women are in great demand as the sex ratio in some parts of Haryana are as deplorable as 493 girls for every 1000 boys, so it is self-evident that a single woman can be bought and sold MANY times.
Case in point:
The story of Tanu *name changed*. Belonging to a poor family (in Haryana), AND being fairly goodlooking was her downfall. She was sold for a paltry five thousand rupees at the age of 16 to a dubious looking middle aged swine, who 'promised' to marry her. To no ones surprise, he raped her repeatedly and sold her for twenty thusand rupees and patted himself on the back for making a good 'profit'. But Tanu's horrific travails did not end there. Oh no it didnt. She was taken to Rajasthan where she was 'shared' between three brothers, and when she overheard one of them talking about selling her off yet again, she grew desperate and fled. But how far could a fleeing girl travel alone with no money or possessions, in a place alien to her?Not very far, as the impotent beasts ganged up on her, raped her, and beat her senselessly until her body resembled a bloody mass of flesh and bones.
Numerous other cases of "sexual brides" have been reported, and some of these girls are no older than fifteen. Sadly, this trafficking has not diminished albeit the demand for brides has only increased; resulting in smuggling girls, living in abject poverty ridden conditions to seemingly richer states like Punjab or Haryana where the sex ratio is conspicuously skewed.
And now do you finally see how female foeticide and infanticide is directly linked to the appalling business of trafficking "sexual brides"? If you still feign ignorance, please go crawl back under the rock you slithered out from.
And YOU, yes you, can do something about female foeticide.
You can file a complaint here ( http://www.indiafemalefoeticide.org/complaints.asp) if you come across any horrific incidents; without turning a blind eye, or you can pledge your support ( http://www.indiafemalefoeticide.org/pledge.htm)
I wish with all my heart, that this relentless slaying, yes slaying, of girls will become a thing of the past . But I cant aspire for the stars, can I?
Ten million girls have been wiped out in the last two decades in India. Unbelievable? May be. But nevertheless, run the number in your head a few times and let it sink in. 10,000,000. One followed by seven zeroes! How I WISH this wasn't true. But unfortunately it is. So, I should be thanking my lucky stars for being alive, shouldn't I? Hence, the beginning statement...
I am an Indian woman. And I am extremely glad to be alive.
Time and again, I always felt that the only mistake I’ve committed in my life is being born a woman. Since I am a woman, I’m a liability, I will not carry on the bloodline of the family (whatever the hell that means), I will not support my poor ailing parents when they are in the throes of their second childhood, and I am extremely ‘expensive’ (for want of a better word) because my poor parents probably had to shell out excessive amounts of dowry for their cow...ooops... daughter, and come to think of it I'll be better off as a man innit'?
Probably, those of you who know me and my background would think my above statement as an exaggeration. Ofcourse, my parents and my family are nice folks and they do not subscribe to the boorish views like the ones I have mentioned above (And no, they didn't have to pay any dowry to marry me off, and neither my husband and his family claimed any). BUT, to the majority of Indian women, educated or otherwise, the above statement would not be an exaggeration!
So what do you do, if you are faced with the errr........ 'burden' of giving birth to a girl? Pshaw! What an elementary question! Well, get rid of her of course! Use technology (foeticide) to discreetly do the deed if you belong to middle class families, or if you're not so lucky, give birth to the girl and then feed poison (infanticide) to the newborn baby! The dastardly deed is done!
So now that we have established that foeticide- http://www.hinduonnet.com/fline/fl1912/19120420.htm and infanticide-http://www.gendercide.org/case_infanticide.html ALONE has contributed to ten million girls being obliterated, and the sex ratio has successfully fallen steadily from 962 women to every 1000 boys in 1981, to 927 girls to every 1000 boys in 2002; has the horribly skewed sex ratio helped in actually improving the abhorrent status of women in India?
The answer is a big, fat, NO. Yet again, unscrupulous men are making a mockery of this gender disparity by trading women around as if they were commodities. Women are possessions remember? Now, the ever enterprising vermins in Haryana, where female foeticide and infanticide have reached unmitigated heights, are making use of the gender dissimilitude to propagate a thriving business in "sexual brides", and yes, you heard me right. Women are in great demand as the sex ratio in some parts of Haryana are as deplorable as 493 girls for every 1000 boys, so it is self-evident that a single woman can be bought and sold MANY times.
Case in point:
The story of Tanu *name changed*. Belonging to a poor family (in Haryana), AND being fairly goodlooking was her downfall. She was sold for a paltry five thousand rupees at the age of 16 to a dubious looking middle aged swine, who 'promised' to marry her. To no ones surprise, he raped her repeatedly and sold her for twenty thusand rupees and patted himself on the back for making a good 'profit'. But Tanu's horrific travails did not end there. Oh no it didnt. She was taken to Rajasthan where she was 'shared' between three brothers, and when she overheard one of them talking about selling her off yet again, she grew desperate and fled. But how far could a fleeing girl travel alone with no money or possessions, in a place alien to her?Not very far, as the impotent beasts ganged up on her, raped her, and beat her senselessly until her body resembled a bloody mass of flesh and bones.
Numerous other cases of "sexual brides" have been reported, and some of these girls are no older than fifteen. Sadly, this trafficking has not diminished albeit the demand for brides has only increased; resulting in smuggling girls, living in abject poverty ridden conditions to seemingly richer states like Punjab or Haryana where the sex ratio is conspicuously skewed.
And now do you finally see how female foeticide and infanticide is directly linked to the appalling business of trafficking "sexual brides"? If you still feign ignorance, please go crawl back under the rock you slithered out from.
And YOU, yes you, can do something about female foeticide.
You can file a complaint here ( http://www.indiafemalefoeticide.org/complaints.asp) if you come across any horrific incidents; without turning a blind eye, or you can pledge your support ( http://www.indiafemalefoeticide.org/pledge.htm)
I wish with all my heart, that this relentless slaying, yes slaying, of girls will become a thing of the past . But I cant aspire for the stars, can I?
Monday, July 21, 2008
SITAYANA
If you still havent understood the nature of this post from the blatantly obvious title, I suggest you stop right now, and desist from reading this post any further.But then again its upto you, O' omnipotent reader.
Whenever I read Ramayana, the nuances in each character intrigues me, and Sita in particualr, piques my budding interest even further. Now Sita has forever been represented as an epitome of inhuman virtuousness, wasting away a lifetime of devotion and service to her husband, only to be publicly maligned and exiled by Rama in the name of 'the greater good'. The 'greater good' being a pathetic dhobi and his miserable wife, doing what poverty stricken people usually do to entertain themselves: indulge in malicious gossip (not that people from the higher echelons of society are seraphic angels, but I'm trying to drive a point here). So, their untoward remarks irked Rama to such an extent that he convinced himself that the whole kingdom of Ayodhya was talking about her, and seeds of dissent planted itself in his mind and he ludicrously decided to banish her while she was heavily pregnant with his children, to boot.
And note: Sita had to go through the 'Agnipariksha' right after returning from exile. The above-mentioned incident happened after Sita passed through the Agnipariksha unscathed and Rama and Sita had been ruling Ayodhya as king and queen for a while. So Rama constantly had bouts of extreme insecurity with respect to Sita's character.
So much for the 'ideal' man.
I may be digressing here, but if you wish to argue on the accuracy of the incidents mentioned above, please do so AFTER reading a legit translation of either Valmiki's Ramayana, or Ramcharitamanas by Swami Tulasidas and THEN try to dispute my statements.
Let us move on to a normal Indian woman's disposition. The model of an Indian woman was, and is based on the unrealistic and unrelenting virtuosity of Sita. While it is commendable that Sita is not represented as a wanton harlot, it is disheartening to note that Sita's character is solely derived from her devotion to Rama. Sita has absolutely no identity of her own. Here is a Verse from Valmiki's Ramayana which mirrors the above view:
"Hanuman, the loyal monkey ally of Rama says: For a woman the greatest decoration is her lord and Sita, though incomparably beautiful, no longer shines in Rama's absence."
Ahh, the seeds of patriarchy, I tell you.
Patriarchy has a way of using the Rama myth to build up the image of an 'ideal male', and unfortunately it has a way of focusing on Sita's devotion, and Sita's selflessness alone to project the image of an 'ideal female'. The common Indian woman is told to bear every preposterous action of her husband, because a 'good' Indian wife does not speak up, does not complain, her place is with her 'Lord'.
If she harbors thoughts of leaving him then she is 'fallen', and anyway an Indian woman has no personal identity, she belongs to her parents before marriage and she belongs to her husband and his family after marriage.If she is unhappy in her marriage, it becomes her cardinal duty to stay in the marriage, even more so, because she can 'prove' what a good wife she is. Thereby throwing her happiness out the window for the 'greater good' of staying with her wastrel of a husband.
And the most deplorable aspect of this is that, the women themselves do not leave their husbands for fear of being ostracised by the society. Divorce in most parts of India is considered a shameful admission of a woman's failure as a wife and daughter in law.
Food for thought: In a 1990 study, divorced women make up a miniscule 0.08% of the total female population in India. (I didnot get a recent figure, though I googled a lot)
Now doesn't this remind you of long suffering Sita? Patriarchy has cleverly pulled yarn over our eyes by glorifying Sita's suffering as exemplary, because of Rama being the perfect man, Sita must be blessed to bear with his 'occasional' transgression as well.
If patriarchy can use the character of Sita to suppress women, it can also be used more creatively to highlight the tribulations of women as a whole. Thereby focusing on the trails of Sita as a warning , instead of justifying her suffering.
I think women or anyone for that matter, should read a version of the Ramayana written by a WOMAN. Yes, I said 'woman', and yes it may sound blasphemous to you, but dont you know that most epics in the world are relative, told strictly from the eyes of the poet or the scribe?
Personally, I would have loved to have Draupadi as a role model, what with her agressiveness, her frank and beautiful friendship with Krishna and her five husbands. But I cant aspire for the stars can I?
I can fathom that Sita will forever remain a role model for the Indian woman, and my only plea is to look at her selfless sacrifice and wasted virtuousness as an injunction, not as an example to emulate.
As the blemishless Sita will forever be the vagabond, the stray waif, insecure, unvalued, and shunned.
And that is why as a mark of respect to the unsullied Sita, I think that the Ramayana should be re-christened as the Sitayana.
For it is only fair.
Whenever I read Ramayana, the nuances in each character intrigues me, and Sita in particualr, piques my budding interest even further. Now Sita has forever been represented as an epitome of inhuman virtuousness, wasting away a lifetime of devotion and service to her husband, only to be publicly maligned and exiled by Rama in the name of 'the greater good'. The 'greater good' being a pathetic dhobi and his miserable wife, doing what poverty stricken people usually do to entertain themselves: indulge in malicious gossip (not that people from the higher echelons of society are seraphic angels, but I'm trying to drive a point here). So, their untoward remarks irked Rama to such an extent that he convinced himself that the whole kingdom of Ayodhya was talking about her, and seeds of dissent planted itself in his mind and he ludicrously decided to banish her while she was heavily pregnant with his children, to boot.
And note: Sita had to go through the 'Agnipariksha' right after returning from exile. The above-mentioned incident happened after Sita passed through the Agnipariksha unscathed and Rama and Sita had been ruling Ayodhya as king and queen for a while. So Rama constantly had bouts of extreme insecurity with respect to Sita's character.
So much for the 'ideal' man.
I may be digressing here, but if you wish to argue on the accuracy of the incidents mentioned above, please do so AFTER reading a legit translation of either Valmiki's Ramayana, or Ramcharitamanas by Swami Tulasidas and THEN try to dispute my statements.
Let us move on to a normal Indian woman's disposition. The model of an Indian woman was, and is based on the unrealistic and unrelenting virtuosity of Sita. While it is commendable that Sita is not represented as a wanton harlot, it is disheartening to note that Sita's character is solely derived from her devotion to Rama. Sita has absolutely no identity of her own. Here is a Verse from Valmiki's Ramayana which mirrors the above view:
"Hanuman, the loyal monkey ally of Rama says: For a woman the greatest decoration is her lord and Sita, though incomparably beautiful, no longer shines in Rama's absence."
Ahh, the seeds of patriarchy, I tell you.
Patriarchy has a way of using the Rama myth to build up the image of an 'ideal male', and unfortunately it has a way of focusing on Sita's devotion, and Sita's selflessness alone to project the image of an 'ideal female'. The common Indian woman is told to bear every preposterous action of her husband, because a 'good' Indian wife does not speak up, does not complain, her place is with her 'Lord'.
If she harbors thoughts of leaving him then she is 'fallen', and anyway an Indian woman has no personal identity, she belongs to her parents before marriage and she belongs to her husband and his family after marriage.If she is unhappy in her marriage, it becomes her cardinal duty to stay in the marriage, even more so, because she can 'prove' what a good wife she is. Thereby throwing her happiness out the window for the 'greater good' of staying with her wastrel of a husband.
And the most deplorable aspect of this is that, the women themselves do not leave their husbands for fear of being ostracised by the society. Divorce in most parts of India is considered a shameful admission of a woman's failure as a wife and daughter in law.
Food for thought: In a 1990 study, divorced women make up a miniscule 0.08% of the total female population in India. (I didnot get a recent figure, though I googled a lot)
Now doesn't this remind you of long suffering Sita? Patriarchy has cleverly pulled yarn over our eyes by glorifying Sita's suffering as exemplary, because of Rama being the perfect man, Sita must be blessed to bear with his 'occasional' transgression as well.
If patriarchy can use the character of Sita to suppress women, it can also be used more creatively to highlight the tribulations of women as a whole. Thereby focusing on the trails of Sita as a warning , instead of justifying her suffering.
I think women or anyone for that matter, should read a version of the Ramayana written by a WOMAN. Yes, I said 'woman', and yes it may sound blasphemous to you, but dont you know that most epics in the world are relative, told strictly from the eyes of the poet or the scribe?
Personally, I would have loved to have Draupadi as a role model, what with her agressiveness, her frank and beautiful friendship with Krishna and her five husbands. But I cant aspire for the stars can I?
I can fathom that Sita will forever remain a role model for the Indian woman, and my only plea is to look at her selfless sacrifice and wasted virtuousness as an injunction, not as an example to emulate.
As the blemishless Sita will forever be the vagabond, the stray waif, insecure, unvalued, and shunned.
And that is why as a mark of respect to the unsullied Sita, I think that the Ramayana should be re-christened as the Sitayana.
For it is only fair.
I will...
I'll spread my wings and I'll learn how to fly...
...And I'll do what it takes till I touch the sky.
For sometime now, my life has been falling apart like a sad house of cards. I feel so frail and hollow. I find it hard to function. I find it hard to find the right words to get me through the day. It isn't in any way different. Nothing horrible has happened yet. I find myself sinking into a bottomless pit of vacuum. I am in my famous mode of "bhalo lagche na" phase.
I am trying to analyse the situation. I am trying to figure out what went wrong. Is it the fact that my expectations are not being met? Is it the fact that my wishes are not being fulfilled? Is it the fact that am in constant conflict with people around me? Or it it the fact that I have difference of opinion with my loved ones?
In 33 years of my life, I think not even 33 expectations of mine have been fulfilled - so am used to it. The same applies to my wishlist. Conflict is the only constant force of my life - am in conflict even with myself. And when there are different people, and when they have different opinions, there gotta be difference of opinion - which is but normal. I know all this. They are part of my life... and I have learnt to live with these for so many years of my life. Then what it is?
What doesnt kill you only makes you stronger. And I am sure I am coming out at the top. There are a million things that made this qualify as a complete 180 degree turn in my life. I guess I have started taking a wild leap... and I am enjoying every minute of it. I feel free... as if I am floating...
The drudge and deariness of the mundane nature of life wont get to me... it cant bug me down... because I am going to taste everything in this world... assume the flavours of the Universe.
Its a new beginning of my life. A new challenge, a new experience, a new strategy to combat negativity, and I know I will succeed - the fighter in me is back, and it is going to fight all the evils... I feel like trying something new - say, taking up kickboxing to fight off those evil demons called frustations!
...And I'll do what it takes till I touch the sky.
For sometime now, my life has been falling apart like a sad house of cards. I feel so frail and hollow. I find it hard to function. I find it hard to find the right words to get me through the day. It isn't in any way different. Nothing horrible has happened yet. I find myself sinking into a bottomless pit of vacuum. I am in my famous mode of "bhalo lagche na" phase.
I am trying to analyse the situation. I am trying to figure out what went wrong. Is it the fact that my expectations are not being met? Is it the fact that my wishes are not being fulfilled? Is it the fact that am in constant conflict with people around me? Or it it the fact that I have difference of opinion with my loved ones?
In 33 years of my life, I think not even 33 expectations of mine have been fulfilled - so am used to it. The same applies to my wishlist. Conflict is the only constant force of my life - am in conflict even with myself. And when there are different people, and when they have different opinions, there gotta be difference of opinion - which is but normal. I know all this. They are part of my life... and I have learnt to live with these for so many years of my life. Then what it is?
What doesnt kill you only makes you stronger. And I am sure I am coming out at the top. There are a million things that made this qualify as a complete 180 degree turn in my life. I guess I have started taking a wild leap... and I am enjoying every minute of it. I feel free... as if I am floating...
The drudge and deariness of the mundane nature of life wont get to me... it cant bug me down... because I am going to taste everything in this world... assume the flavours of the Universe.
Its a new beginning of my life. A new challenge, a new experience, a new strategy to combat negativity, and I know I will succeed - the fighter in me is back, and it is going to fight all the evils... I feel like trying something new - say, taking up kickboxing to fight off those evil demons called frustations!
Carpe Diem
Carpe diem is more than just a phrase that has been passed on to us from latin. It means to literally "seize the day". It is a concept that many of us dream of, and wish that some day we would be able to do. Spontaneity comes naturally to some of us, those who give into their impulses. It is the very same ones that have to battle the mundane insanity, this ritual we call a "week" of our respective lives.
Monday, Tuesday, the week carries on, till Sunday, and we repeat the exercise. Each day putting forth its respective commitments, some of which we may keep and others we procastinate on. The nudging reality called life, that nags us, with deadlines, work, friends, tv shows, and ofcourse BILLS.
What happens when you feel the need to just seize the day? What happens when your heart longs to take a midweek vacation or just take the afternoon off to be with the love of your life? You create CONFLICT. You ask yourself if the world will stop tomorrow if you dont show up for work today. It doesnt. And yet it is not a good enough excuse to want to seize the day. You want to, but then you dont have the guts to take the plunge - to follow your heart.
Then what resolution does our life offer us? Where is the compromise? It is when you just decide to go do it, and then face the inevitable consequences of doing so, losing a day in your calender, catching up for the rest of the week.
Or do you decide that clicking that alram off in the morning and hopping into your workplace is indeed, your idea of CARPE DIEM.
Monday, Tuesday, the week carries on, till Sunday, and we repeat the exercise. Each day putting forth its respective commitments, some of which we may keep and others we procastinate on. The nudging reality called life, that nags us, with deadlines, work, friends, tv shows, and ofcourse BILLS.
What happens when you feel the need to just seize the day? What happens when your heart longs to take a midweek vacation or just take the afternoon off to be with the love of your life? You create CONFLICT. You ask yourself if the world will stop tomorrow if you dont show up for work today. It doesnt. And yet it is not a good enough excuse to want to seize the day. You want to, but then you dont have the guts to take the plunge - to follow your heart.
Then what resolution does our life offer us? Where is the compromise? It is when you just decide to go do it, and then face the inevitable consequences of doing so, losing a day in your calender, catching up for the rest of the week.
Or do you decide that clicking that alram off in the morning and hopping into your workplace is indeed, your idea of CARPE DIEM.
Friday, July 18, 2008
What makes you happy?
Someone asked me this today. And I had to think for atleast five minutes to give an answer: having no problems. Hmm it would have been fine if it was the correct answer. But i dont know. It was just one of the things that popped into my head after 5 minutes of intense thinking.
I mean it is a tough question. What would you have said if some one asked you this question randomly? You would have felt like a deer caught in a truck's headlights with your life flashing before your eyes.... thinking what the hell is it that makes me happy? if you don't, then congrats for you are officially superior to me :)
Anyways, here goes the list of things that make me happy:
Singing in the shower makes me happy.(Infact singing makes me happy, no matter where - its a different thing altogether, that my singing makes others unhappy)
Dashing across the field like a mad puppy with the wind in my hair makes me happy
Having food at a small cafe makes me happy.
Being the center of attention makes me happy.
Travelling makes me happy.
Watching mushy movies with happy endings makes me happy.
Buying little trinkets like bracelets or charms makes me happy.
Playing with children and being one of them makes me happy.
Innocent smile makes me happy.
The smell of the wet earth makes me happy.
Laughter makes me happy
Having ice-creams and chocolates without bothering about weight gain makes me happy.
Receiving and giving gifts makes me happy.
Day dreaming makes me happy.
Being pampered makes me happy.
Being important to someone makes me happy.
Solving challenges makes me happy.
Cracking puzzles makes me happy.
Getting pleasant surprises makes me happy.
Spending quality time with my man makes me happy.
Going for a long drive makes me happy.
Reading makes me happy.
Blogging makes me happy.
Freedom makes me happy.
Above all to spend a day without having a person question me why I am doing xyz makes me happy.
Have you ever tried to find out whats your list? Try it, its fun!
I mean it is a tough question. What would you have said if some one asked you this question randomly? You would have felt like a deer caught in a truck's headlights with your life flashing before your eyes.... thinking what the hell is it that makes me happy? if you don't, then congrats for you are officially superior to me :)
Anyways, here goes the list of things that make me happy:
Singing in the shower makes me happy.(Infact singing makes me happy, no matter where - its a different thing altogether, that my singing makes others unhappy)
Dashing across the field like a mad puppy with the wind in my hair makes me happy
Having food at a small cafe makes me happy.
Being the center of attention makes me happy.
Travelling makes me happy.
Watching mushy movies with happy endings makes me happy.
Buying little trinkets like bracelets or charms makes me happy.
Playing with children and being one of them makes me happy.
Innocent smile makes me happy.
The smell of the wet earth makes me happy.
Laughter makes me happy
Having ice-creams and chocolates without bothering about weight gain makes me happy.
Receiving and giving gifts makes me happy.
Day dreaming makes me happy.
Being pampered makes me happy.
Being important to someone makes me happy.
Solving challenges makes me happy.
Cracking puzzles makes me happy.
Getting pleasant surprises makes me happy.
Spending quality time with my man makes me happy.
Going for a long drive makes me happy.
Reading makes me happy.
Blogging makes me happy.
Freedom makes me happy.
Above all to spend a day without having a person question me why I am doing xyz makes me happy.
Have you ever tried to find out whats your list? Try it, its fun!
Nirvana
Scrutinising every aspect of your life, and inspecting every inch of your existence has its pitfalls. You tend to go off on tangential mood swings that defy the actual purpose of doing so. If you however eventually, like an ostrich, pick your head out of the sand, you might be able to gain some focus on whats really going on. Despite the sand in your eyes ofcourse. What is it that I want to attain in life? I figured it out. It surely isnt having an unlimited budget to buy all the material things i want for myself. Infact. It is Nirvana. Until recently the term meant little if nothing to me. But today yes. I choose nirvana. Complete total euphoric nirvana. Sounds like an oxymoron.
How does one go about finding this perfect state of existence?, I asked myself. After much searching in rabbit holes and kitchen cabinets; in office lockers and in malls; reading books and doing google search, I soon came to realise that finding marijuana was much easier. Nirvana, a state devoid of any anger, lust, jealousy, or craving, seems like the anti-thesis to my existence. I have a temper that flies faster than that of Scarlett O'Hara's (only at times I dont show it which is even more harmful, I guess). And well about my cravings for things and food, those who know me, will know better. A life devoid of any lustful thoughts is rendered irrational with the existence of Tom Cruise/ Ricky Martin/ and ofcourse, my MAN in this world. And incase people close to me think that am not jealous, let me confess today and tell the whole world - that I AM!!! I AM JEALOUS! But yet. Strangely. My obsession with my self has reached its upper limit. I realise that I no longer need a name, place, animal or a thing to support my mental existence. I can just be.
Although lets face it. I dont really speak of nirvana in terms of random monks roaming in Nepal (or the likes), just at peace immersed in a state of transdental happiness. I just really speak of myself, just existing, like a floating nymph of some sort, just passing beautifully through life in daily chores, and friends, and work. No longer scrutinising. No longer inspecting. Devoid of pitfalls. Devoid of expectations. And ofcourse, devoid of anger, lust, jealousy and craving.
How does one go about finding this perfect state of existence?, I asked myself. After much searching in rabbit holes and kitchen cabinets; in office lockers and in malls; reading books and doing google search, I soon came to realise that finding marijuana was much easier. Nirvana, a state devoid of any anger, lust, jealousy, or craving, seems like the anti-thesis to my existence. I have a temper that flies faster than that of Scarlett O'Hara's (only at times I dont show it which is even more harmful, I guess). And well about my cravings for things and food, those who know me, will know better. A life devoid of any lustful thoughts is rendered irrational with the existence of Tom Cruise/ Ricky Martin/ and ofcourse, my MAN in this world. And incase people close to me think that am not jealous, let me confess today and tell the whole world - that I AM!!! I AM JEALOUS! But yet. Strangely. My obsession with my self has reached its upper limit. I realise that I no longer need a name, place, animal or a thing to support my mental existence. I can just be.
Although lets face it. I dont really speak of nirvana in terms of random monks roaming in Nepal (or the likes), just at peace immersed in a state of transdental happiness. I just really speak of myself, just existing, like a floating nymph of some sort, just passing beautifully through life in daily chores, and friends, and work. No longer scrutinising. No longer inspecting. Devoid of pitfalls. Devoid of expectations. And ofcourse, devoid of anger, lust, jealousy and craving.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
My sin
You came upto me. And smiled coyly, the first time I saw you. I didnt think much of it then. Life is a dizzy blur between then and now. Candy, flowers, n agenda-less conversations on the phone. I spent days thinking about an endless list of favorites. Favorite car. Favorite color. Favorite ice cream. Favorite movie. Favorite book. Yours. Not mine.
What happened between yesterday and today? Your eternal promises shattered in less than a day.
I wait for you in the rain. I can feel the cold wind chilling my spine through my drenched clothes. My mind turns away in aversion. This disgusting sight of me disintegrating like a mudslide in rain. Each cold painful drop hits my body. Each thud tries to bring me down physically. I simply stand and I watch you. And they stab slowly painfully, like knives, kissing my back.
You spot me. Panic drives my mind. I want to move. But I cant. I m paralyzed. I am slowly dying in the rain.
Please don't turn away.
I know you will. My mind my heart my soul pleads again and again.
Please dont turn way.
Yet they cannot make me speak. The words will not come out. Yours wont either. Your eyes simply ask n appeal.
"Don't You get it? Its over. I m sorry."
Just like that. Oh the physical agony as my chest ties into a knot. I gasp for air. You are sucking my life away.
I wanted to shed all dignity and fall on my knees and plead you for your mercy. Please let me stay. With you. And my lips don't part. And they wont speak. I stand there, contemplating my dreadful fate. If my life, is to live to my heart's content. I will never have a life, for what my heart wants I'll never know. You stand there and dig your fingers in to my chest, you grab it like it was a decaying bug and rip it apart. There is no surgical precision. There are no stitches. Just an open bleeding wound. You take my heart away with you. Thats... mine. But probably you think is it yours that you had given me to keep? ... Or is it the same thing?
I ask for no apology. I m not even here to judge. I simply watch you in the rain. Walking away. The world is washing away. Not yours. Mine.
What happened between yesterday and today? Your eternal promises shattered in less than a day.
I wait for you in the rain. I can feel the cold wind chilling my spine through my drenched clothes. My mind turns away in aversion. This disgusting sight of me disintegrating like a mudslide in rain. Each cold painful drop hits my body. Each thud tries to bring me down physically. I simply stand and I watch you. And they stab slowly painfully, like knives, kissing my back.
You spot me. Panic drives my mind. I want to move. But I cant. I m paralyzed. I am slowly dying in the rain.
Please don't turn away.
I know you will. My mind my heart my soul pleads again and again.
Please dont turn way.
Yet they cannot make me speak. The words will not come out. Yours wont either. Your eyes simply ask n appeal.
"Don't You get it? Its over. I m sorry."
Just like that. Oh the physical agony as my chest ties into a knot. I gasp for air. You are sucking my life away.
I wanted to shed all dignity and fall on my knees and plead you for your mercy. Please let me stay. With you. And my lips don't part. And they wont speak. I stand there, contemplating my dreadful fate. If my life, is to live to my heart's content. I will never have a life, for what my heart wants I'll never know. You stand there and dig your fingers in to my chest, you grab it like it was a decaying bug and rip it apart. There is no surgical precision. There are no stitches. Just an open bleeding wound. You take my heart away with you. Thats... mine. But probably you think is it yours that you had given me to keep? ... Or is it the same thing?
I ask for no apology. I m not even here to judge. I simply watch you in the rain. Walking away. The world is washing away. Not yours. Mine.
Love - Kabhie Khatta Kabhie Meetha
Love is the essence of life. Love in any form is pure, and makes life worth living. In fact, a deeper realization reveals that love is ultimate. The day, we will be able to master the art of loving everything and everybody around us, we will attain Nirvana! Love is selfless but in today’s world, we have a very narrow minded outlook of love. We hardly come across a perfect couple now a days... What goes wrong over the years? Why love at times hurts us? Why we repent having loved a person once? Why we decide to move on? Why...why...why... These questions always haunt me.
Love makes life live. Love is the ultimate quest. It is love that we all look for and it is love that teaches us all the good things in life. Love is the greatest virtue of human beings. Love is the ultimate lesson for us to learn. And as we live our lives, we are trying to master the art of love. There are various kinds of love: romantic love, the love of a child for a parent and vice versa, and love of nature, of music, of poetry, and of all things on this Earth and in the heavens. Love also implies relationships. And each type of relationship that we live, love is manifested in some form or the other. We experience love from the very first day we are born. Even when we are in our mother’s womb, we experience her love and care. Something that we are born and brought up with, something that is so much of a vital part of our lives, we should have actually been comfortable with this aspect of our life, if not anything else! But yet! We stumble the most, when it comes to love. We face a lot of problems in matters of love and relationships, and they affect us hugely.
Why does love hurt us? I think the main reason lies in our own expectations. Most of the times, we give the responsibility of making ourselves happy to the ones we love. And most of the times, they don’t live up to our expectations, not because they don’t love us, but simply because they don’t know what will make us happy. Similarly, we tend to set out to do things our way to make our loved ones happy, and in the process, we also don’t live up to their expectations. And the end result? Both the parties in consideration are left unsatisfied. If this goes on for a considerable period, the blame game starts in a relationship. We start blaming each other for our unhappy state of mind. And in the process, we just drift apart. Ask anybody around you, you will see them complaining about relationships – My boss is so impossible to work with, my husband gets on to my nerves because he is too interfering, my children are so lazy, and so on. We complain, because we look at things from our point of view. We think that our children don’t love us, because they are lazy, and we hate laziness. We think that our husband don’t love us because he is too interfering, and we don’t like this interference. But probably what we fail to realize is that his interference is because he cares for me! Probably that’s his way of expressing his love. My children may be lazy, but that doesn’t mean that they don’t love me. It’s only their nature, which can be tackled differently. If only, we can think from each other’s perspective rather than only considering what we like and don’t, in a relationship, am sure we would be much better off.
I think the root of a healthy relationship is mutual trust and respect. It's when:
you have fun together
you both feel like you can be yourself
you can have different opinions and interests
you listen to each other
you trust each other
you can both compromise, say sorry, and talk arguments out
you don't have to spend all of you spare time together - you can spend time on your own, or with your own friends and family.
So the responsibility is on us - Love is indeed the greatest gift one can have - its us who have to ensure that we never "over do" it. I believe that if we have found one person on this earth who loves us, its a real treasure - and we should never let him/her go. Love indeed makes life live.
Love makes life live. Love is the ultimate quest. It is love that we all look for and it is love that teaches us all the good things in life. Love is the greatest virtue of human beings. Love is the ultimate lesson for us to learn. And as we live our lives, we are trying to master the art of love. There are various kinds of love: romantic love, the love of a child for a parent and vice versa, and love of nature, of music, of poetry, and of all things on this Earth and in the heavens. Love also implies relationships. And each type of relationship that we live, love is manifested in some form or the other. We experience love from the very first day we are born. Even when we are in our mother’s womb, we experience her love and care. Something that we are born and brought up with, something that is so much of a vital part of our lives, we should have actually been comfortable with this aspect of our life, if not anything else! But yet! We stumble the most, when it comes to love. We face a lot of problems in matters of love and relationships, and they affect us hugely.
Why does love hurt us? I think the main reason lies in our own expectations. Most of the times, we give the responsibility of making ourselves happy to the ones we love. And most of the times, they don’t live up to our expectations, not because they don’t love us, but simply because they don’t know what will make us happy. Similarly, we tend to set out to do things our way to make our loved ones happy, and in the process, we also don’t live up to their expectations. And the end result? Both the parties in consideration are left unsatisfied. If this goes on for a considerable period, the blame game starts in a relationship. We start blaming each other for our unhappy state of mind. And in the process, we just drift apart. Ask anybody around you, you will see them complaining about relationships – My boss is so impossible to work with, my husband gets on to my nerves because he is too interfering, my children are so lazy, and so on. We complain, because we look at things from our point of view. We think that our children don’t love us, because they are lazy, and we hate laziness. We think that our husband don’t love us because he is too interfering, and we don’t like this interference. But probably what we fail to realize is that his interference is because he cares for me! Probably that’s his way of expressing his love. My children may be lazy, but that doesn’t mean that they don’t love me. It’s only their nature, which can be tackled differently. If only, we can think from each other’s perspective rather than only considering what we like and don’t, in a relationship, am sure we would be much better off.
I think the root of a healthy relationship is mutual trust and respect. It's when:
you have fun together
you both feel like you can be yourself
you can have different opinions and interests
you listen to each other
you trust each other
you can both compromise, say sorry, and talk arguments out
you don't have to spend all of you spare time together - you can spend time on your own, or with your own friends and family.
So the responsibility is on us - Love is indeed the greatest gift one can have - its us who have to ensure that we never "over do" it. I believe that if we have found one person on this earth who loves us, its a real treasure - and we should never let him/her go. Love indeed makes life live.
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
And the war still continues...
Am back after a 5 day hiatus... well had to come back for a topic which is so dear to me.
One thought thats haunting me lately is that how do you define a man? I hate generalization, but then, can there be a general definition of a man, which more or less will include everybody in that "category"?
Here is my humble attempt to define a "man" - the draft created by God before creating "woman" - the masterpiece!
(M)AN alysis
Element : Man
Symbol : Ah (short for A**h**e)
Quantitative : Accepted at 7 inches though some isotopes can be as short as 4 inches.
Discoverer : Eve (discovered by accident one day when she had a craving for ribs)
Occurrence : Found following duel element Wo, often in high concentration near a perfect Wo(speci)men.
Physical Properties:
a) Surface often covered with hair; bristly in some areas, soft in others.
b) Boils when inconvenienced,
Freezes when faced with Logic and Common Sense,
Melts if treated like a God.
c) Obnoxious when mixed with any alcohol.
d) Can cause headaches and severe body aches; handle with extreme caution.
e) Tends to fall into very low energy state directly after reaction with Wo (Snore... zzzzz).
f) Gains considerable mass as specimen ages, loses reactive nature.
g) Specimens can be found in various states ranging from deeply sensitive(very rare, tho) to extremely thick.
h) Rarely found in pure form after 14th year.
i) Often damaged as a direct result of unlucky reaction with polluted form of the Wo common ore.
Chemical Properties:
a) All forms desire reaction with Wo, even when no further reaction is possible.
b) Most powerful embittering and aggravating agent known to Wo.
c) Usually willing to react with whatever is available.
d) When saturated with alcohols, will be fairly inert and will repel most other elements.
e) Is repelled by most household appliances and common household cleansers.
f) Is repelled by small children clothed in diapers, particularly those of the malodorous variety.
g) Is neutral to common courtesy and fairness.
i) Is allergic towards shopping and dressing up.
Uses:
a) Long walks late at night, free dinners for Wo...
b) Can be used in recreational activities.
Tests :
a) Pure specimen will rarely reveal purity, while reacted specimens broadcast information on many wavelengths.
Caution :
a) Tends to react extremely violently when other Ah interferes with reaction to a particular Wo specimen. Otherwise very maleable under correct conditions.
A few myths about men:
a) Its said that men only think about SEX. That's exactly not true. They also care a lot about POWER, WORLD DOMINATION, MONEY, and BEER.
b) Men hate malls and dont really experience it the same way as women. Well, thats not true. At the mall, women get EXCITED, THRILLED, and OVERJOYED by purchasing the perfect item. Men experience the same feelings just by finding a close parking space at the mall.
c) Every man thinks he is one in a billion. What they forget is that, there are 4,00,000 men just like them!
d) Men have many faults - WRONG - Men only have two - Everything they say, and everything they do.
e) A man cannot cater to a woman's every need. Who said so???!!! A man can actually cater to a woman's every need, so long as all that she wants is to have sex, go to ball games, and bring him a beer.
f) There are good men around, though rare!
Now, this is what i say, the myth of the century! Why? Well...
Single women claim that all the good men are married, while all married women complain about their lousy husbands. This confirms that there is no such thing as a good man.
One thought thats haunting me lately is that how do you define a man? I hate generalization, but then, can there be a general definition of a man, which more or less will include everybody in that "category"?
Here is my humble attempt to define a "man" - the draft created by God before creating "woman" - the masterpiece!
(M)AN alysis
Element : Man
Symbol : Ah (short for A**h**e)
Quantitative : Accepted at 7 inches though some isotopes can be as short as 4 inches.
Discoverer : Eve (discovered by accident one day when she had a craving for ribs)
Occurrence : Found following duel element Wo, often in high concentration near a perfect Wo(speci)men.
Physical Properties:
a) Surface often covered with hair; bristly in some areas, soft in others.
b) Boils when inconvenienced,
Freezes when faced with Logic and Common Sense,
Melts if treated like a God.
c) Obnoxious when mixed with any alcohol.
d) Can cause headaches and severe body aches; handle with extreme caution.
e) Tends to fall into very low energy state directly after reaction with Wo (Snore... zzzzz).
f) Gains considerable mass as specimen ages, loses reactive nature.
g) Specimens can be found in various states ranging from deeply sensitive(very rare, tho) to extremely thick.
h) Rarely found in pure form after 14th year.
i) Often damaged as a direct result of unlucky reaction with polluted form of the Wo common ore.
Chemical Properties:
a) All forms desire reaction with Wo, even when no further reaction is possible.
b) Most powerful embittering and aggravating agent known to Wo.
c) Usually willing to react with whatever is available.
d) When saturated with alcohols, will be fairly inert and will repel most other elements.
e) Is repelled by most household appliances and common household cleansers.
f) Is repelled by small children clothed in diapers, particularly those of the malodorous variety.
g) Is neutral to common courtesy and fairness.
i) Is allergic towards shopping and dressing up.
Uses:
a) Long walks late at night, free dinners for Wo...
b) Can be used in recreational activities.
Tests :
a) Pure specimen will rarely reveal purity, while reacted specimens broadcast information on many wavelengths.
Caution :
a) Tends to react extremely violently when other Ah interferes with reaction to a particular Wo specimen. Otherwise very maleable under correct conditions.
A few myths about men:
a) Its said that men only think about SEX. That's exactly not true. They also care a lot about POWER, WORLD DOMINATION, MONEY, and BEER.
b) Men hate malls and dont really experience it the same way as women. Well, thats not true. At the mall, women get EXCITED, THRILLED, and OVERJOYED by purchasing the perfect item. Men experience the same feelings just by finding a close parking space at the mall.
c) Every man thinks he is one in a billion. What they forget is that, there are 4,00,000 men just like them!
d) Men have many faults - WRONG - Men only have two - Everything they say, and everything they do.
e) A man cannot cater to a woman's every need. Who said so???!!! A man can actually cater to a woman's every need, so long as all that she wants is to have sex, go to ball games, and bring him a beer.
f) There are good men around, though rare!
Now, this is what i say, the myth of the century! Why? Well...
Single women claim that all the good men are married, while all married women complain about their lousy husbands. This confirms that there is no such thing as a good man.
Friday, July 11, 2008
A Pause
In life we all probably reach a point where look back and introspect. I am in such a stage now. There is a lot to look back, a lot to ponder at, a lot to introspect about ... so its break time for me and my blog. Wanted to delete this blog, for reasons not even known to me, but dont know how to proceed about it. May be, from the core of my heart, I didnt even want to... cos i believe "where there is a will, there is a way"... may be I am not strong willed enough to delete my blog which is very dear to me - I am emotionally attached to each of my post for some reason or the other, and each one of them is special for me, even the most nonsensical stuff...
But I shall put a pause here - but am sure, I am going to bounce back soon... Will be glad to find you here once am back... and with that hope, I leave in search of some answers to the questions of my life.
Till then take care...
But I shall put a pause here - but am sure, I am going to bounce back soon... Will be glad to find you here once am back... and with that hope, I leave in search of some answers to the questions of my life.
Till then take care...
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
U, Me, aur Hum
This is not a movie review. I simply cannot review a Kajol's movie, cos I love her too much to do so. I am biased against her movies, I can never criticise her.
But here i would like to talk about the concept or the story of the movie. I found it interesting because it revolves aound some very interesting principles I adhere in my life to. Principles which are very close to my heart. Principles which make me live my life. And its my privilege to discuss about them in a platform that is provided by U, Me, aur Hum
This movie celebrates love and relationships. Ah, this is my favorite topic on which I can just go on and on. What is love? Does it get lost over the years? Do we take our partners for granted? How do we recognise our soulmates? Does love at first sight exist? Is it ok to lie for getting our true love? All these questions and more are answered in the movie. This movie talks about looking for your true love, finding your true love, and then fighting all odds to be with your true love. I loved the way Ajay took care of Pia, his true love, against all odds and stood by her side, loving her, protecting her, and guarding her all the time.
This movie also talks about genuine love. If you love someone truly, you accept him/her the way he/she is. With all his good qualities as well as bad. I mean, you cant love the sense of humor of your man and not the fact that he hogs a lot? He is a person in totality - with good traits as well as bad. And if you love him truely, you accept him the way he is. And if he also loves you, he will slowly change those traits of his which probably you dont like much. You dont have to be explicit about your likes and dislikes, if he loves you truely he will find out on his own.
"If you love someone truely, you dont expect him to change. And you change for the person you love"
So in a both-way traffic, its a win-win situation.
Love is also about being dead honest with your partner. The relationships should be absolutely transparent. If you have made a mistake, accept it. Its absolutely human to make mistakes, but when you accept them, your true love will definitely understand you. This movie celebrates the spirit of honesty and sincerity in a relationship.
Love is not only the good times, but the bad times as well. Life is a journey, and it becomes worthwhile if you have your soulmate sharing this journey with you. Ups and downs are part and parcel of life. And at no cost, you should be apart. True love should always be together. I just loved this idea. Long live Ajay Devgan for believing in this and projecting this through his movie. Like the character Ajay says, "Pyar karne ka junoon hi kaafi nahin, pyar ko nibhane ka bhi junoon hona chahiye". Love is a process, just like life - it is not a one time thing. Sustainance is a real life problem in love in today's age.
This movie talks about faith and positivism. Another principle I believe deeply in. Life is all about being positive, in good times as well as in bad times. Never let your beleif go. And if you believe something truely, take the plunge. Even if it may seem impossible, even if the going gets tough, never give up. Believe in miracle, believe in magic, believe in angels - i know they exist. I have experienced them in my life, we all do, sometimes or the other. Have faith on all your dreams. Do not discard them.
This movie also talks about following your heart. How heart is always right, and mind at times, is not. Your mind may fail you, but your heart will never. Your heart recognises your soul mate, your heart guides you in every crossroads of your life. I am ruled by my heart, so I know - at times it is pretty conflicting, pretty confusing, but I know my heart is never wrong.
Last but not the least, this movie talks about letting go off ego in relationships. Often, while in the journey, we lose the "US" part in the relationship - its only "U" and "ME". But we should always remember that reltaionships are all about "US" - one entity, one identity... dont ever break this "US" into "U" and "ME". Though these two are different components, having different identity, agreed... but let these different identities be inseparable in "US" - thats the plunge, thats the challenge we have to take in life, in love - only true love will be able to retain this "US" componenet, forever.
So, if you beieve in these principles like me, this movie is worth a watch. You may find it boring, you may find it a bit to dragging, but the philosophies of life depicted in the movie will definitely touch your heart.
Long live love.
But here i would like to talk about the concept or the story of the movie. I found it interesting because it revolves aound some very interesting principles I adhere in my life to. Principles which are very close to my heart. Principles which make me live my life. And its my privilege to discuss about them in a platform that is provided by U, Me, aur Hum
This movie celebrates love and relationships. Ah, this is my favorite topic on which I can just go on and on. What is love? Does it get lost over the years? Do we take our partners for granted? How do we recognise our soulmates? Does love at first sight exist? Is it ok to lie for getting our true love? All these questions and more are answered in the movie. This movie talks about looking for your true love, finding your true love, and then fighting all odds to be with your true love. I loved the way Ajay took care of Pia, his true love, against all odds and stood by her side, loving her, protecting her, and guarding her all the time.
This movie also talks about genuine love. If you love someone truly, you accept him/her the way he/she is. With all his good qualities as well as bad. I mean, you cant love the sense of humor of your man and not the fact that he hogs a lot? He is a person in totality - with good traits as well as bad. And if you love him truely, you accept him the way he is. And if he also loves you, he will slowly change those traits of his which probably you dont like much. You dont have to be explicit about your likes and dislikes, if he loves you truely he will find out on his own.
"If you love someone truely, you dont expect him to change. And you change for the person you love"
So in a both-way traffic, its a win-win situation.
Love is also about being dead honest with your partner. The relationships should be absolutely transparent. If you have made a mistake, accept it. Its absolutely human to make mistakes, but when you accept them, your true love will definitely understand you. This movie celebrates the spirit of honesty and sincerity in a relationship.
Love is not only the good times, but the bad times as well. Life is a journey, and it becomes worthwhile if you have your soulmate sharing this journey with you. Ups and downs are part and parcel of life. And at no cost, you should be apart. True love should always be together. I just loved this idea. Long live Ajay Devgan for believing in this and projecting this through his movie. Like the character Ajay says, "Pyar karne ka junoon hi kaafi nahin, pyar ko nibhane ka bhi junoon hona chahiye". Love is a process, just like life - it is not a one time thing. Sustainance is a real life problem in love in today's age.
This movie talks about faith and positivism. Another principle I believe deeply in. Life is all about being positive, in good times as well as in bad times. Never let your beleif go. And if you believe something truely, take the plunge. Even if it may seem impossible, even if the going gets tough, never give up. Believe in miracle, believe in magic, believe in angels - i know they exist. I have experienced them in my life, we all do, sometimes or the other. Have faith on all your dreams. Do not discard them.
This movie also talks about following your heart. How heart is always right, and mind at times, is not. Your mind may fail you, but your heart will never. Your heart recognises your soul mate, your heart guides you in every crossroads of your life. I am ruled by my heart, so I know - at times it is pretty conflicting, pretty confusing, but I know my heart is never wrong.
Last but not the least, this movie talks about letting go off ego in relationships. Often, while in the journey, we lose the "US" part in the relationship - its only "U" and "ME". But we should always remember that reltaionships are all about "US" - one entity, one identity... dont ever break this "US" into "U" and "ME". Though these two are different components, having different identity, agreed... but let these different identities be inseparable in "US" - thats the plunge, thats the challenge we have to take in life, in love - only true love will be able to retain this "US" componenet, forever.
So, if you beieve in these principles like me, this movie is worth a watch. You may find it boring, you may find it a bit to dragging, but the philosophies of life depicted in the movie will definitely touch your heart.
Long live love.
Monday, July 7, 2008
Sarah - The richest girl of the world.
Sarah is my friend. Not actually, I think I can best explain my relationship with Sarah as an acquaintance, may be. I dont know. But yes, Sarah and I had been room mates for almost a month, about 13 years back. And we grew pretty close during that phase. It has to be. Two girls of the same age, spending 24 hours together for almost a month. You have to be deaf, and dumb and blind not to be friends in such a situation.
It all happened that I was proposed by my college to attend a special training for a month in Mumbai once and thats where I met Sarah for the first time. Tall, slim, black anglo girl with the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen. She was not beautiful, in fact she was very ordinary looking, but her eyes! They speak. They tell you what Sarah is thinking at any point of time. The day I first landed in Mumbai, I met her at the airport itself. She was from Chennai. We exchanged profanties. Even then I didnt have the faintest idea that i would be spending the next one month with this girl. I was sad, and depressed that I was away from my family for almost a month, and more so, because, my birthday was also within that one month. The whole idea of spending the birthday all alone in an alien land, was killing me. In such a frame of mind, both of us boarded the same car which took us to the college campus where we were to take our training from. At the registration desk we were told, that we would be sharing a room. Initially, I didnt like the idea of sharing a room with a stranger at all. I prefered to be left alone. But ofcourse, I had no option. Sarah, on the other hand, seemed to be very please to have got a room partner. She did all the talking, from the time we left the registration desk till the time we found our room and got settled in there.
The room was neat and clean, very well maintained, and having a very beautiful view outside from the window. But nothing could perhaps make me happy then. I was cribbing and complaining about everything from the curtain to the bed sheet to the colour of the bathroom tiles. The fact was that, I had probably pre-programmed myself not to like anything I was offered. I was missing my family and my own room the most. Sarah probably realised and tried to make me feel at home by being more friendly, but with the frame of mind i was in, I wasnt really appreciating her intrusion much. It was a Sunday, and we spent the rest of the day in the room itself, only venturing out during the meal times. Dirung our college days, we didnt have mobiles, so in the evening I went out to look for STD booth to call up home. I asked her if she would also like to go, to which she said, her family only consisted of her mother, whose line of work is into sailing. For months she would be out of contact and the ony way they would interact with each other is through letters (even e-mail was not a very in-thing then). Thats when I saw Sarah's eyes for the first time, may be. Her eyes were sad. Thats when she told me that she had been in a hostel from her childhood, and would only get to meet her mother during summer vaccations. Her eyes told me how much she missed her mother, missed having a proper familly, but explicitly she said none. Thats when I took an immediate liking to her.
Our days were pretty hectic there. We would get up in the morning, get ready, have breakfast by 8am everyday and would go the main college campus. Our classes would resume sharp at 9am. We would get a lunch break from 12:30PM to 1:30PM and the classes would continue till 6PM everyday. After that we would come back to our room, freshen up a bit and do our studies etc. Followed by that we would have our dinner and go off to sleep. This was our regular routine for the next one month. Over the wekends we would explore the city, but not every weekend.
Sarah and I were poles apart in terms of our lifestyle, experience, nature, characteristic - infact everything. Even then, we bonded pretty well. May be our differences brought us closer to each other. I used to tell her about my family - my extended family of 34 members excluding the maids and servants, who were very much the part of our family. i used to tell her about my life in Kolkata. How pampered I am. How lazily I spend my life amidst my uncles and aunties, and cousin brothers and sisters. I used to tell her about my loads of friends, my social life, my neighborhood etc. She would listen to everything i said, with a lot of appreciation and amazement, because her life was entirely different. Her father fled away when she was a little girl, and she absolutely had no idea even how he looked like. Her mother was a strong woman, fighting all odds to bring her only child Sarah, up. But in trying to maintain herself and Sarah, she could never give quality time to Sarah, as a result of which she was always lonely. This probably made her an introvert. She didnt have many friends. She was fiercely independent right from her childhood, doing all her things on her own. And there I was - so dependent on everybody. My life would be a standstill if i didnt have my family and friends around me.
Every evening I would get loads of calls from my parents, family, friends, and they would tell me how much they were missing me. My mother would speak to me for hours. They would courrier me gifts to cheer me up. And Sarah would appreciate all these with her eyes. I always felt bad for her. No calls, no letters, no gifts, nothing for her.
During this time only, we discovered one very significant similarity between us amidst so many differences - that we share our birthday!!! Yes, and as luck would have it, our training was getting over just one day before our birthday, and both of us got our tickets to our respective places on our birthday itself. Sarah's flight was early in the morning, and mine was in the afternoon on the 19th of June'1995 - our 20th birthday!
From 4-5 days prior to my birthday (and hers as well), I started receiving gifts, cards, flower bouquet, chocolates etc from my firends, relatives, family members etc. Our room looked like a little gift shop and flower shop with so many packed gifts and flower bouquets around. She would be so excited to see them. And she would decorate our room with those received gifts - ofcourse only my side of the room. Her side was empty. I made a note of buying a gift for her for her birthday. But the training got stricter and absolutely left us with no time to go out for shopping or anything else for that matter. Then I decided, that I would give her something from what I have received in all those days. But each and every gift was special to me. So I couldnt make up my mind as to which gift of mine i could part with and give it to her. Everyday, i promised myself, that next day I would decide on which gift to give her from the ones I had received.
On the last day of our training, ie, on 18th June she received a package. It was a gift from her mother on her birthday! She was escatic! She was so happy! That gift made her so special, her eyes spoke again, and this time with tears of happiness rolling down her cheek! I was very very happy for her. And amidst that happiness, I absolutely forgot to give her a gift from my side, which I was procastinating for long - unable to decide which gift of mine i should part with...
On 19th June, I woke up late. By that time, Sarah had already left. But before leaving, she packed my baggages (by then she knew me well enough to have understood that i never did packing on my own ever in my lifetime). So she took the trouble of packing all my suitcases neatly. She did her own bed (everyday she would do both our beds), and left a letter for me there. Alongside the letter was a packed gift.
I read her letter with sleepy eyes. She had wished me a very happy birthday, and a life ahead. She mentioned there that this one month that we had spent together was the best phase of her life, as she realised what having a sister, a family meant! Each of the words in that letter was so real,so genuine, and so from the heart... I started crying. In the last sentence of her letter she mentioned, that since it was my birthday today, and since she didnt have the time to shop for a gift for me, she is leaving the gift that her mother had sent her on her birthday, for me! As my birthday gift!!!
I didnt know what to do... there I was, unable to decide which gift to give her from so many of gifts I had received... and there she was, without any hesitation she had gifted me the only gift she received on her birthday! i was standing there speechless, cos thats when i realised, that Sarah is the richest girl of this world. She has a heart of gold. And that she taught me the Art of Giving.
It all happened that I was proposed by my college to attend a special training for a month in Mumbai once and thats where I met Sarah for the first time. Tall, slim, black anglo girl with the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen. She was not beautiful, in fact she was very ordinary looking, but her eyes! They speak. They tell you what Sarah is thinking at any point of time. The day I first landed in Mumbai, I met her at the airport itself. She was from Chennai. We exchanged profanties. Even then I didnt have the faintest idea that i would be spending the next one month with this girl. I was sad, and depressed that I was away from my family for almost a month, and more so, because, my birthday was also within that one month. The whole idea of spending the birthday all alone in an alien land, was killing me. In such a frame of mind, both of us boarded the same car which took us to the college campus where we were to take our training from. At the registration desk we were told, that we would be sharing a room. Initially, I didnt like the idea of sharing a room with a stranger at all. I prefered to be left alone. But ofcourse, I had no option. Sarah, on the other hand, seemed to be very please to have got a room partner. She did all the talking, from the time we left the registration desk till the time we found our room and got settled in there.
The room was neat and clean, very well maintained, and having a very beautiful view outside from the window. But nothing could perhaps make me happy then. I was cribbing and complaining about everything from the curtain to the bed sheet to the colour of the bathroom tiles. The fact was that, I had probably pre-programmed myself not to like anything I was offered. I was missing my family and my own room the most. Sarah probably realised and tried to make me feel at home by being more friendly, but with the frame of mind i was in, I wasnt really appreciating her intrusion much. It was a Sunday, and we spent the rest of the day in the room itself, only venturing out during the meal times. Dirung our college days, we didnt have mobiles, so in the evening I went out to look for STD booth to call up home. I asked her if she would also like to go, to which she said, her family only consisted of her mother, whose line of work is into sailing. For months she would be out of contact and the ony way they would interact with each other is through letters (even e-mail was not a very in-thing then). Thats when I saw Sarah's eyes for the first time, may be. Her eyes were sad. Thats when she told me that she had been in a hostel from her childhood, and would only get to meet her mother during summer vaccations. Her eyes told me how much she missed her mother, missed having a proper familly, but explicitly she said none. Thats when I took an immediate liking to her.
Our days were pretty hectic there. We would get up in the morning, get ready, have breakfast by 8am everyday and would go the main college campus. Our classes would resume sharp at 9am. We would get a lunch break from 12:30PM to 1:30PM and the classes would continue till 6PM everyday. After that we would come back to our room, freshen up a bit and do our studies etc. Followed by that we would have our dinner and go off to sleep. This was our regular routine for the next one month. Over the wekends we would explore the city, but not every weekend.
Sarah and I were poles apart in terms of our lifestyle, experience, nature, characteristic - infact everything. Even then, we bonded pretty well. May be our differences brought us closer to each other. I used to tell her about my family - my extended family of 34 members excluding the maids and servants, who were very much the part of our family. i used to tell her about my life in Kolkata. How pampered I am. How lazily I spend my life amidst my uncles and aunties, and cousin brothers and sisters. I used to tell her about my loads of friends, my social life, my neighborhood etc. She would listen to everything i said, with a lot of appreciation and amazement, because her life was entirely different. Her father fled away when she was a little girl, and she absolutely had no idea even how he looked like. Her mother was a strong woman, fighting all odds to bring her only child Sarah, up. But in trying to maintain herself and Sarah, she could never give quality time to Sarah, as a result of which she was always lonely. This probably made her an introvert. She didnt have many friends. She was fiercely independent right from her childhood, doing all her things on her own. And there I was - so dependent on everybody. My life would be a standstill if i didnt have my family and friends around me.
Every evening I would get loads of calls from my parents, family, friends, and they would tell me how much they were missing me. My mother would speak to me for hours. They would courrier me gifts to cheer me up. And Sarah would appreciate all these with her eyes. I always felt bad for her. No calls, no letters, no gifts, nothing for her.
During this time only, we discovered one very significant similarity between us amidst so many differences - that we share our birthday!!! Yes, and as luck would have it, our training was getting over just one day before our birthday, and both of us got our tickets to our respective places on our birthday itself. Sarah's flight was early in the morning, and mine was in the afternoon on the 19th of June'1995 - our 20th birthday!
From 4-5 days prior to my birthday (and hers as well), I started receiving gifts, cards, flower bouquet, chocolates etc from my firends, relatives, family members etc. Our room looked like a little gift shop and flower shop with so many packed gifts and flower bouquets around. She would be so excited to see them. And she would decorate our room with those received gifts - ofcourse only my side of the room. Her side was empty. I made a note of buying a gift for her for her birthday. But the training got stricter and absolutely left us with no time to go out for shopping or anything else for that matter. Then I decided, that I would give her something from what I have received in all those days. But each and every gift was special to me. So I couldnt make up my mind as to which gift of mine i could part with and give it to her. Everyday, i promised myself, that next day I would decide on which gift to give her from the ones I had received.
On the last day of our training, ie, on 18th June she received a package. It was a gift from her mother on her birthday! She was escatic! She was so happy! That gift made her so special, her eyes spoke again, and this time with tears of happiness rolling down her cheek! I was very very happy for her. And amidst that happiness, I absolutely forgot to give her a gift from my side, which I was procastinating for long - unable to decide which gift of mine i should part with...
On 19th June, I woke up late. By that time, Sarah had already left. But before leaving, she packed my baggages (by then she knew me well enough to have understood that i never did packing on my own ever in my lifetime). So she took the trouble of packing all my suitcases neatly. She did her own bed (everyday she would do both our beds), and left a letter for me there. Alongside the letter was a packed gift.
I read her letter with sleepy eyes. She had wished me a very happy birthday, and a life ahead. She mentioned there that this one month that we had spent together was the best phase of her life, as she realised what having a sister, a family meant! Each of the words in that letter was so real,so genuine, and so from the heart... I started crying. In the last sentence of her letter she mentioned, that since it was my birthday today, and since she didnt have the time to shop for a gift for me, she is leaving the gift that her mother had sent her on her birthday, for me! As my birthday gift!!!
I didnt know what to do... there I was, unable to decide which gift to give her from so many of gifts I had received... and there she was, without any hesitation she had gifted me the only gift she received on her birthday! i was standing there speechless, cos thats when i realised, that Sarah is the richest girl of this world. She has a heart of gold. And that she taught me the Art of Giving.
Friday, July 4, 2008
Wisdom Tooth
God created man. Then he created teeth. Then he created dentists and told them, “Go and wreak havoc on Earth. Create imaginary gum diseases. Endorse tar-tasting toothpastes.”
Dentists were happy for some time. Then they all went back to God and said, “Dude we can’t seem to find enough problems. Help us out.”
And then... God created Wisdom teeth.
(This happened when I was in my college, so I may miss out a couple of details here)
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The dentist began talking even before he saw my x-ray.
Dentist: Your third molar is impacted. We need to extract it.
(For a moment I thought I accidentally walked into a car body shop.)
Me: What?
Dentist: We need to remove your wisdom teeth
Me: Why?
Dentist: I need to go on a cruise
Me: Sorry?!!!
Dentist: I mean, *medical mumbo-jumbo* ... ultimately your wisdom tooth is doing obscene things to the next tooth.
Me: But I don’t feel any pain or anything
Dentist: That’s why we need to remove it immediately (Otherwise it may never cause a problem)
Me: Fine
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
For the surgery I had to pick a form of anesthetic. Local, Local + mild sedation or Local + general anesthetic. I chose the second option and marked it on a paper.
On the day of the extraction, this Chinese doctor walks in. We both were apparently speaking English but either couldnt understand what other was trying to say. It took me five minutes to explain to him what my height and weight are with his asking me “Pardon me, can you repeat that” after every word I said.
Finally, having filled out the paper work he stuck the IV in my arm and started the drip.
He: So you chose general anesthesia, right?
I panicked!!!
Me: No, no! I chose the second option. Mild sedative?
He: Pardon me, can you repeat that?
Me: I said…
I was knocked out cold.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I woke up after who knows how long, two teeth lighter. I woke up briefly to confirm the person picking me up was my father and then I don’t remember anything. My father later informed me that I volunteered some juicy information in my stupor. I don’t know what I said, but all I know is I am not going to win another argument in next 15 years with him.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
So there I was. Sitting with half my face swollen like a football. My friend called me and asked me why I didn’t get rid of the other two wisdom teeth at the same time?
Well...I don’t know. My doctor didn’t tell me to. May be the doctor was using my mouth like a little savings account. The remaining two would come in handy when he needed the next cruise.
But thankfully, after that i didnt have to go to that Chinese Dentist ever again in my life. His chamber was somewhere near Bhowanipore. And even today, when I pass by that lane, I have butterfiles the size of dinosaurs in my stomach.
Dentists were happy for some time. Then they all went back to God and said, “Dude we can’t seem to find enough problems. Help us out.”
And then... God created Wisdom teeth.
(This happened when I was in my college, so I may miss out a couple of details here)
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The dentist began talking even before he saw my x-ray.
Dentist: Your third molar is impacted. We need to extract it.
(For a moment I thought I accidentally walked into a car body shop.)
Me: What?
Dentist: We need to remove your wisdom teeth
Me: Why?
Dentist: I need to go on a cruise
Me: Sorry?!!!
Dentist: I mean, *medical mumbo-jumbo* ... ultimately your wisdom tooth is doing obscene things to the next tooth.
Me: But I don’t feel any pain or anything
Dentist: That’s why we need to remove it immediately (Otherwise it may never cause a problem)
Me: Fine
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
For the surgery I had to pick a form of anesthetic. Local, Local + mild sedation or Local + general anesthetic. I chose the second option and marked it on a paper.
On the day of the extraction, this Chinese doctor walks in. We both were apparently speaking English but either couldnt understand what other was trying to say. It took me five minutes to explain to him what my height and weight are with his asking me “Pardon me, can you repeat that” after every word I said.
Finally, having filled out the paper work he stuck the IV in my arm and started the drip.
He: So you chose general anesthesia, right?
I panicked!!!
Me: No, no! I chose the second option. Mild sedative?
He: Pardon me, can you repeat that?
Me: I said…
I was knocked out cold.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I woke up after who knows how long, two teeth lighter. I woke up briefly to confirm the person picking me up was my father and then I don’t remember anything. My father later informed me that I volunteered some juicy information in my stupor. I don’t know what I said, but all I know is I am not going to win another argument in next 15 years with him.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
So there I was. Sitting with half my face swollen like a football. My friend called me and asked me why I didn’t get rid of the other two wisdom teeth at the same time?
Well...I don’t know. My doctor didn’t tell me to. May be the doctor was using my mouth like a little savings account. The remaining two would come in handy when he needed the next cruise.
But thankfully, after that i didnt have to go to that Chinese Dentist ever again in my life. His chamber was somewhere near Bhowanipore. And even today, when I pass by that lane, I have butterfiles the size of dinosaurs in my stomach.
Thursday, July 3, 2008
A page from a feminist's diary
I am a feminist. I know for sure that we women are far more superior than men. We have better brains and much better hearts than you guys do. We are far more intelligent, far more powerful (yes, you got me right, powerful - power doesnot necessarily mean blowing up your muscles stupid), and far more matured than you guys. We know how to tackle problems - after all we are tackling you guys for centuries now. We know how to perform brilliantly under stress. We are much more perseverent, infact why am I going on... in short, every human trait and qood quality - u name it - we outsmart you in the area.
I know most of you men agree to me as well. But there are few things, I want to tell you today. Please pay attention to them, cos they will help you in the long run.
1. Show respect to women - i mean ALL AGE. The more you show respect to them, the more you get respect from them, and your market value will definitely be on the rise to those PYTs you dream of wooing.
2. We all know that you love to letch at girls. But please, dont do that infront of your girl. You can reserve that behavior of yours for your guys day (night) out. When you are with your girl, shower all your attention to her. She will love you for that.
3. We love it when you guys are at your chauvinist best. I mean, open the doors for us, dont just hop into the car on your own.
4. I know its not natural for you, but women are very romantic in nature. So please, try to be romantic at times for God's sake. Small surprises, like a bunch of rose without any special reason, makes her feel special, ok? Or may be a surprise long drive?
5. Please dont admire other women infront of her. She has brains, ok? So she also realises if Mrs. Sharma is a better cook, or Mrs. Pradhan is a better hostess. You dont have to pinpoint these things, infact, if you believe me, she realised those traits in those women faster than you did, so just shut up!
6. We have seen "pyaar ke side effects". Even those of us who haven't, they also realise that when you have nothing better to say, or when you are lost in our daily arguements, you utter those 3 magical words (i love u) hoping that it will rescue you from whatever mess you are in. Please, let your actions speak, rather than you. i know you love her, so how about showing that thru your actions, rather than mechanically uttering those 3 magical words, huh?
7. I dont know whether you are aware or not, but we love attention. And we think its absolutely normal to get attention from that special man of your life. Even we shower all our attentions over you na? So why cant you do the same? Please pamper us - we love to be pampered. Love us, we love to be loved. Thats all we ask for.
8. We may not always tell you, and we may pretend to be absolutely confident and modern day women and all that - but you know what? we love being protected by you. We want you to give us that assurance, that you are always there by our side. Common, be a man! We still believe in fairy tales, and we believe that you are that prince charming for us, who will fight all odds to win us over. So next time, you face a difficult situation, dont make a stupid face and run to her for advise, she believes that you can solve it on your own, please dont let her down.
9. We may be talking a lot about econimic freedom and indepence of women, but you know what? We love it when you pay our bills occassionally. And after all, we dont expect all the men to do that for us, never. But you are special. So if you do it for us, we just love it.
10. And for God's sake, start taking some responsibility. Its fun to share the load as well as the laughter, isnt it? When we say, we will do it together, we mean it... what about you?
I know most of you men agree to me as well. But there are few things, I want to tell you today. Please pay attention to them, cos they will help you in the long run.
1. Show respect to women - i mean ALL AGE. The more you show respect to them, the more you get respect from them, and your market value will definitely be on the rise to those PYTs you dream of wooing.
2. We all know that you love to letch at girls. But please, dont do that infront of your girl. You can reserve that behavior of yours for your guys day (night) out. When you are with your girl, shower all your attention to her. She will love you for that.
3. We love it when you guys are at your chauvinist best. I mean, open the doors for us, dont just hop into the car on your own.
4. I know its not natural for you, but women are very romantic in nature. So please, try to be romantic at times for God's sake. Small surprises, like a bunch of rose without any special reason, makes her feel special, ok? Or may be a surprise long drive?
5. Please dont admire other women infront of her. She has brains, ok? So she also realises if Mrs. Sharma is a better cook, or Mrs. Pradhan is a better hostess. You dont have to pinpoint these things, infact, if you believe me, she realised those traits in those women faster than you did, so just shut up!
6. We have seen "pyaar ke side effects". Even those of us who haven't, they also realise that when you have nothing better to say, or when you are lost in our daily arguements, you utter those 3 magical words (i love u) hoping that it will rescue you from whatever mess you are in. Please, let your actions speak, rather than you. i know you love her, so how about showing that thru your actions, rather than mechanically uttering those 3 magical words, huh?
7. I dont know whether you are aware or not, but we love attention. And we think its absolutely normal to get attention from that special man of your life. Even we shower all our attentions over you na? So why cant you do the same? Please pamper us - we love to be pampered. Love us, we love to be loved. Thats all we ask for.
8. We may not always tell you, and we may pretend to be absolutely confident and modern day women and all that - but you know what? we love being protected by you. We want you to give us that assurance, that you are always there by our side. Common, be a man! We still believe in fairy tales, and we believe that you are that prince charming for us, who will fight all odds to win us over. So next time, you face a difficult situation, dont make a stupid face and run to her for advise, she believes that you can solve it on your own, please dont let her down.
9. We may be talking a lot about econimic freedom and indepence of women, but you know what? We love it when you pay our bills occassionally. And after all, we dont expect all the men to do that for us, never. But you are special. So if you do it for us, we just love it.
10. And for God's sake, start taking some responsibility. Its fun to share the load as well as the laughter, isnt it? When we say, we will do it together, we mean it... what about you?
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