1- I love men who are bald and accept it. There is nothing uglier than a man fooling himself by wearing a wig to cover the bald. It's one thing to lose your hair, but to lose all your self-respect and to wear something that looks like a dead rat on top of your head is just unacceptable. Bald is sexy. Bald is experience. Bald is maturity.
2- I can convince people about anything, at any time, on any given day. It's a gift.
3- I should be awarded at an International Level for 'Bullshit Talking'.
4- I absolutely hate fair skinned men. I think God intended to make them women but changed his mind at the very last minute.
5- I hate Mama's-boys. It is not cute. It is not a testament to how he will take care of you. It just means the doctor forgot to cut the damn umbilical cord when he was born.
6- I hate men who spend way too much time at the gym and try to look like Brad Pitt. Brad Pitt is unreal. No real man should look like that! A real man is not obese, but he should not be the kind who looks like his veins are going to pop out if you hug him too tight!
7- I hate Brad Pitt. I hate women who like Brad Pitt.
8- I love men who have large appetites. A real man will eat every meal like it is his last.
9- And finally, short women end up with tall men.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Thursday, May 21, 2009
A New Look at The World.
I bought a new pair of shades. Nothing elaborate. Not a fancy brand. Not too much money. But they are something else! The minute you put them on, you feel like you are a part of one of those, romantic movies, from the 60s. You know the one's that have this melancholy emotion going on. Where the actress walks on alone on this lonely street, wondering whether she should marry the guy she has known for years or the guy she met on a holiday somewhere. I hope you guys get the point.
The first time I tried them on, I felt like it was going to rain. I love that feeling. You know just before it's going to start raining, the sky turns into this dusty shade of orange, and the wind is so strong that you can't keep your eyes open. And all the people that are outside, all the children that are playing on those large grounds, run back home. Everything clears up. Like an empty battlefield. It's the most beautiful feeling. And the best part about it, is that it is so predictable. Everyone knows this feeling. Everyone relates to it. Everyone knows it is going to rain. So, I had to buy them. I have to say, it is the first time I have bought a feeling.
Monday, May 18, 2009
I Feel like Switzerland
I haven't felt like this in very long. Too long actually. So long that I have forgotten what it feels like to feel like Switzerland. People I call friends are useless. Solely ornamental. People who are friends but the ones I hardly ever call are the ones I miss the most when I feel like this. They know exactly how to make me feel like Germany, and that is only because they know the Adolf in me. I hate it when people give you reasons, and explanations. I don't want to hear them anymore. I would like to believe that at age 21...and rapidly reaching 22, we are beyond these reasons that really mean nothing. You know when you are pissed off at someone and you ask them why they did something, you don't really want to hear WHY!? You just want them to open their mouths so you can sock them in the face. Who here honestly wants to hear, " Actually I tried calling you but my battery died off!" or, " I felt like you would want some time off so I just kept away from you for weeks after I made that horrible mistake!" ? I have made up my mind about kick boxing. I am not taking it up to lose the extra kilos, or for self defense. I just want to kick some 'friendly' butt. Kick it all the way to Mars. Friends don't really have a purpose in life. They are there because, well some of them you decided to be friends with over a piece of candy they shared with you a million years ago, and some because you have a common enemy, or because you both got too drunk to actually remember the reason for this unbreakable bond! Pllllllllllleeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaseeeeee!!!! I say commitments of any kind just tie you down. Like someone pointed out, ' All relationships are man made. There is absolutely nothing natural about it!' So, I don't think people should raise their eyebrows when I say, I am not OBLIGED, or for that matter no one is to take the responsibility to make and keep someone ELSE happy!
I mean, the world is cruel. It's hard to keep yourself happy, then why should one be asked to do the same for someone else too? Doesn't it seem unfair? I am battling every single day with thoughts that keep me awake like an Owl, and so do a lot of other people. Some people are disturbed by religion, others by recession, and maybe some by health. That's a lot of shit in itself. And in all this when people tell you, 'you are the only one who understands me, I don't know what I would do without you!' I can't help but feel like Switzerland on Coke.
I mean, the world is cruel. It's hard to keep yourself happy, then why should one be asked to do the same for someone else too? Doesn't it seem unfair? I am battling every single day with thoughts that keep me awake like an Owl, and so do a lot of other people. Some people are disturbed by religion, others by recession, and maybe some by health. That's a lot of shit in itself. And in all this when people tell you, 'you are the only one who understands me, I don't know what I would do without you!' I can't help but feel like Switzerland on Coke.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
The Curious Case of Braveheart.
Saturday, 7th of March, started of as a normal day. Dad asked me to get his laundry done. Friends asked me where do we go for lunch? I asked myself what am I doing with my life? Little did I know that I would get the answers to all my profound questions that day.
Neha called me frantically. She asked me to rush to Pashan for a rescue. She also said that there were people beating a dog to death, with sticks. The key was in the ignition when she was in the middle of the sentence. Parinit drove like a maniac, and I felt like today I will kill. I asked Parinit to run all the red lights. I looked for some sort of a rod or a huge stick in the back of his car. He told me later on in the day that he asked me to remain calm. I never heard it. By the time we reached, Neha and Sunil were already there. Their faces looking grim. I couldn't feel my legs. As I walked through the mob, Neha lookd at me and said, 'She's gone.' I could have collapsed. I felt like all the energy in my body was sucked out. I felt weightless. I saw her lying on the ground. She looked like she was at peace. Like she was in a better place. A place where there is no hunger, no greed, no anger, and no death. Neha and Sunil gave me a brief about what had happened before we reached there. I could not wrap my mind around what they were telling me. I heard a man complaining. 'SHE BIT ME. SHE BIT ME!!' he was yelling. When asked to show his wound, he displayed what looked like a 10 year old mosquito bite. He was clearly lying. The dog who died was small, thin, and was just looking for food. I couldn't help but notice a petite woman. She looked like she could've taken the world on that day. Her name was Anita. She was accompanied by her husband and her friend. I kept wondering why they have this halo over their heads? Like I said, all my questions were answered that day.
The day seemed longer than it was. Our hearts were full, our eyes were dried out, and all we wanted was justice. All I could think of was if there is a God, today I would know. Neha had called the police, and she had also notified Manoj Oswal of PFA (People For Animals). Luckily enough, the right people were at the right place, at the right time. We all know how often that really happens. The witnesses were appalled with what they had to see, and the ones who heard about it could not even imagine the pain and the suffering of the dog, who Sunil has so precisely named, 'Braveheart'. And the ones who commited this heinous crime, either vanished or were in complete denial. The security guards of the DRDO Complex. I can't get over the disturbing paradox in this situation. The men who did this were 'SECURITY' Guards. They are supposed to protect. The sticks in their hands were to be used on those who take advantage of innocent lives. They will suffer. And their suffering has already begun.
My mind kept wandering. I imagined myself in the place of Braveheart. I thought of how much pain she must have been through. I also wondered why, just why did she not run away when the first blow landed on her? Again, all my questions were answered that day. I wished I could put those men through the same pain until they gave up. I wished that Braveheart was alive when we came there, so we could have saved her life. Anita told me, with that heavy yet strong heart, that when she arrived there, Braveheart was wagging her tail, and the people were still beating her with sticks on her head, and on her neck. And a mob of about 30 people were just watching, some even cheering the culprits on. I asked myself, What has this world come to? I felt like some one just shot me right through my heart. I told Neha, that if this is how people are going to kill the dogs, we might as well just start euthanising them all. It's a Man eat Dog world.
We felt a little better when Manoj and the Police, took appropriate actions, and also when the witnesses stuck by us and more importantly stuck by Braveheart, till the very end. We finally took Braveheart for her post-mortem, which was conducted by Dr. Lokhande, who very graciously obliged even though it was his holiday.
When She was lying in our car, I felt a tear rolling down my cheek, but I curbed it. I told myself I won't let her down. I knew I was with a team of people who will fight with all their mights and only stop when we hear a sigh of relief.
Braveheart was not just an incident to remember, or just another press article. She was an impact on all our lives. She made us stronger, she made us realise we all have a purpose on earth, she told us with her wagging tail, that we must not live each day as 24 inconsequential hours. We are here to help those who can't help themselves and in the process of doing this we need to raise ourselves. When I asked myself what I am doing with my life? She told me I am helping her, and many more like her. I am saving lives for a living, and I get paid with wags, licks, and blessings. She told me people envy me, because unlike them I have found my calling, and every night I sleep with a smile on my face. When I wondered why Anita and her companions had a halo over their heads, she told me it was because God sent them there so that they could witness the injustice and make a noise about it. It wasn't a mere co-incidence that Anita knew Neha's number and profession before hand. It was all meant to be. She said they were her Angels. When I asked her why she did not run away when the first blow landed on her? She smiled and said, pain is in your mind. When you tell yourself something doesn't hurt, it just doesn't. She said she looked at all the people around her and decided to wait, because they needed to learn. And if it took one life for many others to realise the value of all things living, so be it.
Braveheart lived a small life. But a life that was so much more meaningful than the kind of life we live. We have to stop with all this self-indulgence and shake ourselves every morning, just to remind ourselves why we are really here? Is it because of all the money? Where does that take us, besides all the parties in town? Or is it because of all the fame? What does that bring us, besides fake friends and true enemies? None of this will satisfy us as much as a peaceful sleep after knowing the difference you made in someone's life.
So, wake up. Look into your mirror and question yourself, until you find an answer that brings you that peaceful sleep. Afterall, Braveheart gave up her life so that you could find your's.
Neha called me frantically. She asked me to rush to Pashan for a rescue. She also said that there were people beating a dog to death, with sticks. The key was in the ignition when she was in the middle of the sentence. Parinit drove like a maniac, and I felt like today I will kill. I asked Parinit to run all the red lights. I looked for some sort of a rod or a huge stick in the back of his car. He told me later on in the day that he asked me to remain calm. I never heard it. By the time we reached, Neha and Sunil were already there. Their faces looking grim. I couldn't feel my legs. As I walked through the mob, Neha lookd at me and said, 'She's gone.' I could have collapsed. I felt like all the energy in my body was sucked out. I felt weightless. I saw her lying on the ground. She looked like she was at peace. Like she was in a better place. A place where there is no hunger, no greed, no anger, and no death. Neha and Sunil gave me a brief about what had happened before we reached there. I could not wrap my mind around what they were telling me. I heard a man complaining. 'SHE BIT ME. SHE BIT ME!!' he was yelling. When asked to show his wound, he displayed what looked like a 10 year old mosquito bite. He was clearly lying. The dog who died was small, thin, and was just looking for food. I couldn't help but notice a petite woman. She looked like she could've taken the world on that day. Her name was Anita. She was accompanied by her husband and her friend. I kept wondering why they have this halo over their heads? Like I said, all my questions were answered that day.
The day seemed longer than it was. Our hearts were full, our eyes were dried out, and all we wanted was justice. All I could think of was if there is a God, today I would know. Neha had called the police, and she had also notified Manoj Oswal of PFA (People For Animals). Luckily enough, the right people were at the right place, at the right time. We all know how often that really happens. The witnesses were appalled with what they had to see, and the ones who heard about it could not even imagine the pain and the suffering of the dog, who Sunil has so precisely named, 'Braveheart'. And the ones who commited this heinous crime, either vanished or were in complete denial. The security guards of the DRDO Complex. I can't get over the disturbing paradox in this situation. The men who did this were 'SECURITY' Guards. They are supposed to protect. The sticks in their hands were to be used on those who take advantage of innocent lives. They will suffer. And their suffering has already begun.
My mind kept wandering. I imagined myself in the place of Braveheart. I thought of how much pain she must have been through. I also wondered why, just why did she not run away when the first blow landed on her? Again, all my questions were answered that day. I wished I could put those men through the same pain until they gave up. I wished that Braveheart was alive when we came there, so we could have saved her life. Anita told me, with that heavy yet strong heart, that when she arrived there, Braveheart was wagging her tail, and the people were still beating her with sticks on her head, and on her neck. And a mob of about 30 people were just watching, some even cheering the culprits on. I asked myself, What has this world come to? I felt like some one just shot me right through my heart. I told Neha, that if this is how people are going to kill the dogs, we might as well just start euthanising them all. It's a Man eat Dog world.
We felt a little better when Manoj and the Police, took appropriate actions, and also when the witnesses stuck by us and more importantly stuck by Braveheart, till the very end. We finally took Braveheart for her post-mortem, which was conducted by Dr. Lokhande, who very graciously obliged even though it was his holiday.
When She was lying in our car, I felt a tear rolling down my cheek, but I curbed it. I told myself I won't let her down. I knew I was with a team of people who will fight with all their mights and only stop when we hear a sigh of relief.
Braveheart was not just an incident to remember, or just another press article. She was an impact on all our lives. She made us stronger, she made us realise we all have a purpose on earth, she told us with her wagging tail, that we must not live each day as 24 inconsequential hours. We are here to help those who can't help themselves and in the process of doing this we need to raise ourselves. When I asked myself what I am doing with my life? She told me I am helping her, and many more like her. I am saving lives for a living, and I get paid with wags, licks, and blessings. She told me people envy me, because unlike them I have found my calling, and every night I sleep with a smile on my face. When I wondered why Anita and her companions had a halo over their heads, she told me it was because God sent them there so that they could witness the injustice and make a noise about it. It wasn't a mere co-incidence that Anita knew Neha's number and profession before hand. It was all meant to be. She said they were her Angels. When I asked her why she did not run away when the first blow landed on her? She smiled and said, pain is in your mind. When you tell yourself something doesn't hurt, it just doesn't. She said she looked at all the people around her and decided to wait, because they needed to learn. And if it took one life for many others to realise the value of all things living, so be it.
Braveheart lived a small life. But a life that was so much more meaningful than the kind of life we live. We have to stop with all this self-indulgence and shake ourselves every morning, just to remind ourselves why we are really here? Is it because of all the money? Where does that take us, besides all the parties in town? Or is it because of all the fame? What does that bring us, besides fake friends and true enemies? None of this will satisfy us as much as a peaceful sleep after knowing the difference you made in someone's life.
So, wake up. Look into your mirror and question yourself, until you find an answer that brings you that peaceful sleep. Afterall, Braveheart gave up her life so that you could find your's.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Professional Hazards
There are a FEW too many things on this blog that will disrupt my Professional life almost completely. I need to remove a post or two, so that I can survive, and continue surviving! So, all my 3 readers...a post or two will be removed for my benefit. I hope you guys understand! Peace.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
What's Love got to do with it???
People I grew up with are getting married. They are taking the big plunge. The vows, the till death do us apart, the whole deal. And that scares me! I fall in love with way too many people. I feel like I am hogging the scene when it comes to falling in and soon enough out of love. When I look at my parents who have been married for almost 30 years now, I feel elated, because they managed to stand still against all odds. But, when I go out in my world again, I feel like a fool. All the hope vanishes into thin air and what remains, is this over-powering uncertainity. Hope, like Love I think is a useless emotion. I don't mean I don't believe in Love anymore, but does the whole, love lasts forever concept still stand? Or are we just fooling ourselves? Is it really possible to go through 30 years of your life with one partner, who slowly but surely turn into your worst nightmare? I really want monogamy to happen for me, but I am scared that it just might never! I remember joking about this with my friends a couple of years ago. I used to tell them, how I want to marry a couple of times so that the excitement never goes away, but really do we have the strength to do this for the rest of our lives? The meeting for a coffee...the messaging at all odd hours...the subtle and not so subtle flirting....the first kiss...the first fight..and the last fight! Does love slowly turn into compromise...and finally into tolerance? Does the fact that we have been together for too long count at the end of the day, when we can't spend 5 minutes with each other? Or is this just a part of what we have been told is LOVE?
It doesn't take a scientist to discover that love pretty much takes the backseat after a certain point. Then I wonder, what it is that still keeps us together? If only there was some way to know why and how people who are together..are together! Life would have been so simple. With every passing year, you become less perfect and more human. And with the license to vote and drink (not together!), comes the maturity. And with the maturity comes the understanding of the complications of life.
I guess, the fun part is finding all this out on your own. And keeping it to yourself. So that a couple of years later, there will be another love-struck moron with an identity crisis, trying to figure out...What's love got to do with it?!?
It doesn't take a scientist to discover that love pretty much takes the backseat after a certain point. Then I wonder, what it is that still keeps us together? If only there was some way to know why and how people who are together..are together! Life would have been so simple. With every passing year, you become less perfect and more human. And with the license to vote and drink (not together!), comes the maturity. And with the maturity comes the understanding of the complications of life.
I guess, the fun part is finding all this out on your own. And keeping it to yourself. So that a couple of years later, there will be another love-struck moron with an identity crisis, trying to figure out...What's love got to do with it?!?
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Cynics Unlimited.
We were younger when we called ourselves the 'Cynics Unlimited', very lovingly too. We laughed at everyone, judged everything with a pulse and anything (or anyone) that deviated from our line of thought was burnt in a large bon-fire. We loved only each other, and to become a part of this group, serious talent and more importantly proving that talent to each one of us was required. Having said this, I must mention, we could not be easily pleased, or bribed. Then we grew...not older, less younger. And although our ideologies remained the same, we all moved apart. Only physically.
5 years later when all of us meet, we remember the old times very fondly, but what scares me the most is that this Cynicism sometimes gets the best of all of us. I listen to all our conversations and we sound like we believe in very few things or nothing at all! We didn't grow up thinking Santa and the Tooth Fairy are creations of the corporate world. Silly concepts that milk money from the sissy kids. We also all fell in love, and looked for the Goddamn 'right guy' wherever we thought appropriate; the coffee shops, the malls, the bookstores, and the art exhibitions. Then when, and how did these girls become us?!
And the point to note here is, each one of us is happy with our cynicism. We accept it proudly, and we believe it is here to stay for the better. What are these experiences that make us positively pessimistic (pun intended) and yet lead us to believe we are strong, successful, independent women. We defy all laws of Sociology, by being those indivinduals who somehow manage to live and love isolation. We watch movies on our own, and shop with our own money, again on our own, and are comfortable doing this. And all this when the rest of the world wants us to believe, that no one wants to be lonely, and being single is being alone and unloved (?) . Loneliness, is just a state of mind. And the irony of it all is, 'we' feel lonely in a crowd.
So, cheers to all those lonely (single or not doesn't matter) cynics out there!
5 years later when all of us meet, we remember the old times very fondly, but what scares me the most is that this Cynicism sometimes gets the best of all of us. I listen to all our conversations and we sound like we believe in very few things or nothing at all! We didn't grow up thinking Santa and the Tooth Fairy are creations of the corporate world. Silly concepts that milk money from the sissy kids. We also all fell in love, and looked for the Goddamn 'right guy' wherever we thought appropriate; the coffee shops, the malls, the bookstores, and the art exhibitions. Then when, and how did these girls become us?!
And the point to note here is, each one of us is happy with our cynicism. We accept it proudly, and we believe it is here to stay for the better. What are these experiences that make us positively pessimistic (pun intended) and yet lead us to believe we are strong, successful, independent women. We defy all laws of Sociology, by being those indivinduals who somehow manage to live and love isolation. We watch movies on our own, and shop with our own money, again on our own, and are comfortable doing this. And all this when the rest of the world wants us to believe, that no one wants to be lonely, and being single is being alone and unloved (?) . Loneliness, is just a state of mind. And the irony of it all is, 'we' feel lonely in a crowd.
So, cheers to all those lonely (single or not doesn't matter) cynics out there!
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