Just a little girl...

She woke up, rubbed her big brown eyes with her little, soft, pink hands.  She stood up, looked around, and began walking....

Walking alone in the woods. How did she get there? Her mother didn’t allow her to leave home alone. “Uh, well, if mommy doesn’t know and I have come this far, surely it mustn’t be that scary?” Alone she walked, amazed at the wonders of the forest, at the tall, such tall trees, which filtered sunlight as if the skies were showering golden glitter, the leaves crunched beneath her pretty red sandals. Tall grass tickled her knees as she hopped along, her little white frock full of the precious dirt from her strange new adventure. Her brown curls filled with little twigs and leaves from the fall which had brought her here as she now remembered. But where had she fallen from?

“I’ll think about it later in my boring little room, I must hurry and see all that I can before someone catches me!” She continued hopping and skipping gleefully when she saw a man, no a boy, well he was taller than the stupid boys in her class at least. She looked at him from behind a tree, he was looking at her. How did he know she was here? She knew him, she now recognised as he faced her and ran to hug him, while he picked her up in his arms and kissed her forehead. She loved him, she loved him ever since she could remember and she’d loved him all the six years of her life. He was her hero. He came home sometimes, she visited him sometimes and he played with her and told her stories. He told her that she was a little princess and that she’d grow up to be a beautiful woman. She never understood how he knew, how could she ever be a woman, wasn’t she a little baby? Wouldn’t she always be this little? No, she was five last year, now she was six, soon she’d be tall and pretty. Yes, she knew she would be beautiful; everyone looked beautiful when they were old and went to college. Well, now she was in her favourite place in her hero’s lap and he was nuzzling her neck with his nose.

He was so nice, he always loved her this way, he must love her a lot she felt, maybe he will marry her when she grows up. Maybe she could tell mommy that they will marry each other.  Something brought her back from her musings. He was still cuddling her, but something was wrong, he wasn’t looking at her like everyone else did, he wasn’t even kissing her like everyone else did. It was scary, he wasn’t being nice and gentle, he was hurting her, physically and she didn’t know why but mentally too. Something was not good, something was not right, she didn’t like the way he was grabbing her, how he was pressing her against him and she didn’t like being kissed on the mouth. Yuck, why was he doing that? He didn’t even look familiar, who was this man? Why was he hurting her. She hadn’t hurt him, she had not done anything wrong. She tried to break free, but he kept asking whether she was liking it, She said no so many times. He wasn’t listening. He was just hurting.

His eyes burnt, burnt with flames and she saw a little doll, who looked exactly like her go up in flames. She saw that doll look right into her and she saw fear. She saw fear as if it were alive. As if it were a person. She pulled away, but she had changed, she had changed into the beautiful woman she wanted to be, the boy was not as tall. Just a little taller, but not too much more. He looked at her warily and said, “it’s ok, we’ll just forget it, don’t tell mommy, ok? Mommy won’t like that you got hurt.” She said, in a strange strong voice, “Yes, mommy won’t like it,” and she turned away. She walked and walked. She wished that boy died, but she said sorry to God for wishing so, She didn’t see the boy writhing in pain on the floor, the golden glitter scorching his body. She didn’t see the scorching end and the loveliness of the boy, that she had adored, leave him, she didn’t see him turn into a wretched ghost of himself, a man who looked he’d lost everything and could never have it back, a man who knew he’d never be forgiven. She ran and ran and hugged mommy. Mommy was so warm, so soft, so strong.  Mommy hugged her and she fell asleep.

Trrriiiinnnggg Trrriiinnggg... “Ugh..What...Where? Oh...Monday, Oh College, was that a dream? Who was the girl? Why can I not have normal dreams?”

“Azel!!!! Stop talking to yourself, wake up if you plan to attend college today!”

“Yeah, right. Ugh. Headache. Who needs an alarm, when you can yell like that??!”

“Azel!!!”

“Yeah yeah, waking up, Relax Mom.”

Happy Independence Day

As long as you keep a person down, some part of you has to be down there to hold him down, so it means you cannot soar as you otherwise might.”

I came across this quote today and felt it to be perfect. Freedom is not limited to having your own government. A country is essentially made up of citizens not geographical boundaries. We were lucky to be born in a country which was free in the sense that we now had the right to run our Nation, to make our own mistakes and the responsibility to fulfil our duties as citizens. For the past 63 years many people have tried to make us understand that our freedom fighters sacrificed themselves for a dream, a dream to see India shine, not suffer under the hands of others or even in the hands of her own children.

I refuse to believe that we have done justice to their sacrifices but neither am I a cynic to believe nothing can be done. We are growing as a Nation, but we all are well aware that the growth is plagued by corruption, ignorance, selfishness. I am not a very patriotic person myself, at least not in the extreme sense of the word. I love my country just as I love my home, my family; It isn’t much different, we live with people at home or in our society, with our parents, uncles, aunts, siblings, cousins, friends, colleagues. We have differences varying in nature, personal, professional, political, academic, many actually. But we function as a family all right even though there are tiffs.

The problem with our society in general is that, even though we believe that we are a free country, we limit it to just the fact that we are autonomous with respect to the world. Autonomy is not the same as freedom, in the true sense of the word, each citizen in the country should have the right to dream and the right to make it come true. Successful, happy and content individuals who want to soar make a country which is happy, content and soaring. If we cannot grow as individuals we cannot grow as a Nation. I cannot expect you to be like me, I cannot expect you to do what I tell you to and I cannot expect to rise by stepping on your freedom.

We are humans, we will be selfish, altruism is never an absolute way, but we must learn where I ends and We begins. A nation of educated, honest individuals who value the concepts of dignity, integrity and equality, and work towards converting dreams to reality without smothering another individual is a free country.


If you want a change, Bring it.
If you want a difference, Make it.
If you want an initiative, Take it.

Happy Independence Day.

The Zoo and You

I’d like to live in a world where a chicken can cross a road without having its motives questioned.

What is it with us humans? I mean I get all the intellectual curiosity some of us have, and the uselessness the rest exploit. Why animals though? You question a chicken crossing a road, you think a cat spoiled your day if it crossed the road, you’d run over a dog crossing the road? What? Seriously, poor things have no place to live till you decide to run them over or cook them for a meal, and they can’t cross the road without your permission? What is the big deal if an animal wants to get to the other side of the road?

This is just a specific example, I am sure you are aware of the most famous paradox of all, did the chicken come first or the egg? Okay, it’s the layman’s introduction to Evolution, but get over it. There are a lot of details to this question, it isn’t as dumb as it sounds and it isn’t limited to chicken! Egg can be considered to be that initial first cell, and Eureka, evolution states the same, life from a single cell. Leave the poor chicken alone! They came from an egg, laid by their mom and are pretty fortunate if not turned into an omelette before “Happy Birthday!”

Then the evergreen, “Kutte ki maut marega!” (you’ll die the death of a dog!” ??? What?? Do humans necessarily have a special beautiful death associated with them? What is with the dog dying? Why is bitch such a taboo word? Wonder if the dog society has abuses like, “Saala aadmi”....or perhaps...”
Aurat kahin kii”. I just read a news article about a man raping a bitch. :O. Seriously, WTF?? Bestiality may soon be almost as acceptable as homosexuality, but leave the animal alone if it isn’t turned on by you, okay?!?

I also never really liked the zoo, pay for a ticket and watch caged-bored-malnutritioned (at least in India)-animals like an idiot, never really got what fascinated most kids. Maybe something wrong with me, but, seriously, a monkey eating a banana you threw him, isthat funny? Really? So what would be natural, it throwing the banana right at your stupid face and dancing to “Papa jag jaayega” (pathetic song, pathetic movie...Housefull...eew.)

Then as if zoos were not enough to gape at animals, you have horny teenagers, desperate middle-aged fools, etc ogling away at animals making out on the road. Hello? They cannot rent a hotel, they generally do not have houses and we’re making sure that forests are extinct. What do you expect them to do? Turn celibate, or can you not access porn on the net that you have to resort to such levels of degradation and vellagiri that you ogle at unknowing animals in love/lust.

How can I forget the bollywood songs, “Koel si teri boli, ku ku ku ku....”, Haha.... imagine a woman speaking like that. “Kaali naagin ke jaisi zulfein teri.” Well, men still have the hots for Medusa it seems. “Padosan apni murgi ko rakhna sambhaal, mera murga hua hai diwana”.... Amitabh Bacchan ka song... neither is it funny, nor romantic, if the idea was to make it repulsive, good job.

Hunting as a hobby. Wow, so cool. I have a gun. I travel in a jeep. Btw, My dad bought all this. But I’m so cool. I went to the jungle, probably prepared weeks for it, and killed a baby deer drinking water. Wow. I am so cool. Seriously dude, F*** You. I mean you may not have come across these too often, but you could change the lingo according to the era you think they’d fit well, and it’d still hold good.

The concept of sacrifice, from ages ago till today, an undeserving human wants something, what should he do? No you don’t need to study, you don’t need to work hard, you don’t need to sweat. All you need to do is: Kill an animal. Want to know what’s in your destiny, kill an animal, mutilate it’s body, examine the body parts and you’ll have a prophecy. And then if you are Julius Caesar, you don’t even pay any attention to it after killing the innocent animal, you just act all smart and end up being stabbed 23 times.

I am not trying to be Maneka Gandhi here, but, it is really weird how humans are so obsessed with animals. I am yet to see the fascination reciprocated by them. Whether it is abuses, bad luck, pornography, death, or plain horrible songs you have to have an animal associated with it. Get a life people. Also, Stop throwing stones at or kicking stray dogs, it is really really disgusting.

“The greatness of a nation and its moral progress can be judged by the way its animals are treated”- Mahatma Gandhi

P.S.: I haven’t even begun on the extinction of various species, and the impact it has on the ecological balance, and on us. Understanding that requires education and intelligence, and would come after the moral/ethical issues many humans are yet to overcome or may be it would come from it. Go Google keywords like, “Ecological balance”, “Animal Extinction and Endangerment” etc. I have no special love for animals, they're living beings just like plants and humans (if they're not included in the animal kingdom, they're supposed to be though). I think people with Zoomania: Excessive fondness of animals, are also stupid, but at least they don't harm them. Also, what you see in purple above was going to be a tweet, but since I have no work, I wrote an entire blog post.

Happy Birthday...

Happy Birthday =)

You’ve been such a special friend, felt like talking to you today. It’s been so long, I really miss our long chat sessions, when we used to talk about everything and nothing. Giving each other cricket score updates, movie reviews and talking about the times when you used to take classes =)

I remember seeing you for the first time with that bright orange bag of yours, you looked like such a kid, was pretty shocked to see that you’d be teaching us. Had heard from friends, “He’s our school senior, very very cute.” Well, that you are, seriously. The class was real fun, you had this contagious enthusiasm about you that got to everyone, people interested in studying, girls interested in you (yes, that was quite a number!) and even people interested in nothing. Was a fun class, we learnt and laughed, and never realised that your presence itself induced happiness.

Then, that class happened. Everyone one was making noise, and yeah I could see you were getting really pissed off. I was really trying hard to solve this particular circuit, while everyone around me was talking, screaming. Suddenly, i got the answer! “Yay!” I screamed, just when magically everyone else shut up. And you scolded me, in front of 100 other students. I was really really angry, and out of rebellion, didn’t attempt any other sum after that. Then one day, I told you, “You know I saw your profile on orkut.” You asked, ”Add kii mujhe?”, I replied, “Nahi, just saw.” I smiled and walked away. My little revenge taken, yet I always adored you as this really cute and enthusiastic teacher. Missed a few classes, told you the reason later, sorry again, it hurt me in the end.

But then, we became friends, gmail chatting all the time, I did finally make you say sorry for that class. Really regret the fact that I didn’t meet you to take the chocolates you brought for me from LA, that was really really sweet of you. Wish i’d gone, I’m so so stupid. But at least you ate them, some respite from mess food =)

Still am so proud that after our long long discussions on what you should say in an interview, how you should say it, you made it to such an awesome firm. I remember what you were going to say about yourself, and I had told you, “Are you in class 2.” Then after my suggestions you’d said, “Kuch funda hai tumko bhai.” Was so happy when you called to tell me that you had got the job and even gave me undeserved credit for it. Thank you. Although you haven’t given me a single treat out of the hundreds you promised.

We kept in touch while you moved to Mumbai, and m glad we did. Couldn’t wait to tell you that we’d come first this year in Centrifuge, Spring Fest. And your message after that, haha, your messages always bring a smile. Then I didn’t really get a chance to tell you that we came second by just 1 mark in IIM Calcutta, Carpe Diem. Was going to ping you but didn’t out of laziness.

And then, you went. 13^th feb around midnight, I get a call that you are no more. I had just deleted your lone forward on my cell two days back, i was just going to ping you two days back. But i didn’t, and you went. I cried and cried, just hoping, that it’s a mistake, but it wasn’t. I wish had spoken with you that one last ttime, I just wish you hadn’t gone to Pune. I miss you Ankik Bhaiya. I miss you constantly telling me and all of us not to call you bhaiya. But you know what, I loved teasing you about Chanchal, and I loved calling you bhaiya. I miss you so so much, wish we could talk once more.

I just hope, you are happy wherever you are. I hope you get justice, You, Anindyee and Shilpa must get justice. I didn’t know them, I hope they’re with you and happy too. =) I hate those cowards for taking away an amazing guy, a person who was so down to earth, so cute, super smart, loved drams, football, cricket...life! I just wish you were here, and you’d keep telling me ki kya huha result kii main when i’d tell you my cgpa.... I just wish I could see you online again on Gtalk, I still have your number saved. Don’t want to delete it. I am sure I wasn’t one of your closest friends, but I don’t know why I miss you so so much. You were a part of a very important phase in my life, and we’ve talked so many times about it. That day, with you I lost so much from my life. Miss you Ankik Bhaiya, Love you.

P.S.:  Was crying throughout while writing this, and just remembered how once while chatting we were talking about me and how I didn’t study when I had to, and I started crying, and you got all nervous and said, “Arre please tum ro mat, rone se kuch nahi hoga, aage accha karna.” Wish you’d say that to me now, and I’d stop crying.

There's this pic of yours I really liked, the basketball one, couldn't find that. Had to remind you to keep changing your display pics, haha. =) You never read my blog, hope you read this post.  ♥

To Go Back Just Once..

To go back just once,

To turn back time;

To feel, what I dream of:

To make you mine.

Is it too much I ask for?

Is it too much I wish?

To run from this darkness,

Experience the bliss.

I don’t want perfection,

I don’t want the glory.

Just life as I dreamt,

The dream that I loved.

I’d erase all the wrong,

I’d give all I have:

To go back just once,

To turn back time;

To feel, what I dream of:

To make you mine.

Is it normal for you to want something, imagine your life centred at it and then, when you lose it forever, still think of it as your own? Is it okay to still love it like your own and feel possessive of it? Is it okay to see it as a part of another’s life and feel nostalgic about it as if it was once yours?

I think it’s a form of schizophrenia or split personality disorder! And it drives me crazy... even more than what I already am. It makes it even more difficult for me to accept reality, and I am left hanging somewhere in between. I still cling to my long shattered dreams and live in denial, yet knowing my naiveté I still feel happy. It seems pathetic to the little voices in my head, but I still can’t tag it as escapism, it still brings me happiness and doesn’t hurt anyone. So it can’t be a bad thing, right? It isn’t being crazy, right?

Well may be it is, but then, so be it. I think, crazy or not, those wishes, those daydreams would always be mine. Escapist or not, I enjoy them too much to let them go, and I love them too much to let them die.

p.s.: This is NOT about a person.

A Mind Of Their Own

A Mind Of Their Own...

A person with a new idea is a crank until the idea succeeds.
Mark Twain

My last post ‘Stagnancy’ turned out to be quite literal. Or rather succeeded in contradicting me for a long time. It’s been so long while I wrote anything at all, and it is very irritating. The feeling of my words having a mind of their own, it makes me very prematurely feel like a mom whose kids are not-so-very-obedient to say the least. I was discussing with a lot of people individually how writing is something that just happens in my case. I seem to be completely at a loss when I want to write or am asked to write. While, it is days like these, like today, when Microsoft word 2007 opens of its own volition and I start penning down, rather typing out more torture for you. I kind of like the fact that my essay/post eventually chooses a name for itself rather than inheriting the name’s purpose.

Of course, it does worry me that in future if I have to write essays, articles as a requirement it might turn out to be worse than what they are now. My English teacher in school used to tell me, “Priyanka, you have to learn not to write the way you speak. You have to learn to write keeping the reader in mind.” She meant well I know. I love her. But I have a few reasons to contradict her, even though the contradiction is entirely unintentional and uncontrollable. First, writing is something personal to me, even a school essay, these are my words, I cannot be diplomatic or not be me. Second, how can I be presumptuous enough to claim I know what my reader wants? When I speak, when I write, when I draw even when I think I can’t help being me, I don’t want to be anything but me. Of course, I am not being an idealist here; I am not claiming that I have always been so honest. But I do claim that I try to filter and colour my views as much as possible, we do live as a society but I cannot give up my individuality. I have views and I respect them.

I don’t know yet what I am trying to write, probably I am just typing the conversation going on inside my head between me and me, in the middle of a terrible head-ache though. I have been waiting for something to affect me so much so as to make me write something, it hasn’t happened yet, but maybe this writer’s block is what I had to write about. Probably the fact that be it music, painting, writing anything which we create is something which is larger than us. Maybe, just maybe, it is the creation which makes us make it possible. A random thought, but it is something which inspires awe and humility in me. Our work defines us and not vice versa. Now, I still don’t know when I might be able to write again, but I just hope, that my words keep wanting to be heard. I just hope that my dreams keep wanting to be achieved, and I forever remain an instrument to make them a reality.

Stagnancy

Stagnancy

“God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.”

I read this word and I remember my biology lesson on Amoeba. Well, that was when I had heard the word first, Amoebae are found mainly in stagnant water bodies. Hence, amoeba is kind of equivalent to stagnancy in my over-analytical-hyper-imaginative-insanely-logical head. The logical conclusion follows that I dislike stagnancy in any form.

I read today in a novel a phrase called “The Human Condition”, it meant that human beings do not like change. The phenomenon of inertia supports this view. But, on a personal level, which I so believe in, I beg to differ. I have noticed that I am constantly in the lookout for change. I like to see things, grow and evolve. I like randomness, chaos and disorder. And just as inertia proved the tendency to stagnate, the phenomenon of Entropy supports me. That the ultimate stability lies in the highest possible degree of disorder and to achieve that a spontaneous reaction must occur.

Although I realize that it is very simple to observe the benefits of stagnancy, the comforts it has to offer one cannot deny the thrills of unpredictability and change. People crave safety, yet that is utopic. We always want good things to remain the way they are, but we always hope for the bad things to get over. Why this hypocrisy? If we are ready to accept the change in bad things, why can’t we accept the mortality of good?

The law of conservation of energy states that energy cannot be created or destroyed, but it can be transferred from one form to another. We always look at the first part of it in theory, but the practical and the important part is the second half of the law. Transformation is the key.

We all love the breeze blowing and ruffling the leaves of a tree, does anyone like the Fog?

If we accept changes in nature as a necessary and welcome occurrence, why is it so hard to accept changes in our lives? Is it possible to achieve growth without change? Is it possible to achieve success without it being transformed from our efforts?

Although I’d like to clarify, the change I talk about deals with adaptability and openness to new ideas. It does not imply fickle-mindedness. When I talk of learning to change I do not undermine solidarity or constancy. I talk of constancy and adaptability over stubbornness and stagnancy.

In principle, I like change, the need for safety being present in me too, but the curiosity and thrill of novelty winning hands down!

“If you don’t create change, Change will create you.”