Oh Fcuk

with my opinions on things!

I’m soooo in love with him, I wanna marry him right now!

Does it matter if we still need to get a foothold in our jobs? Does it matter that I have no money to sponsor for our marriage? Does it matter if we both have to shift base forever? Does it matter that I have a list of 100 things I want to do before I get married? Does it matter if I am stubbornly not ready but my parents and the whole of me secretly are?

He reminds me each day to marry him. If this is not a man in love, who is?

Oh Fcuk my sky high expectations.

 

English is not my mother tongue

… and yet people judge me when I use bad grammar. I am called illiterate because I am unable to string complicated English words into a sentence. I don’t make a good partner if I embarrass others with my English. Only if I wear jeans am I called modern, not because I fight injustice against women. Only if I converse in English with my ‘educated relatives living in America’ will they be impressed. It doesn’t matter what degrees I hold as long as it is not an MA in my mother tongue because that is of no use you see. You can’t make enough money! Only if you study your master’s degree from America will you be lauded and if you choose to study anywhere else or even here you are mediocre.

How hypocritical of me. I am typing the whole damn thing in English!

I know many people who are professionals in their mother tongue yet have an iota of difficulty conversing in English and they are judged. I was also among many millions who judge others based on their English but not anymore. I feel ashamed and ignorant despite scoring highest mark in English language in College.

Why must I look down upon you?

Maybe you weren’t exposed to English at all. Maybe you couldn’t afford books or novels. Maybe you were ignorant. Maybe you were scared. Maybe you tried or still trying. Maybe you already know it but ain’t showing off  :p . Maybe you are above all of us. Maybe you are nice that way. Maybe you want to know your mother tongue better. Maybe you were never interested. Maybe you don’t care.

 

Travel Bug

has bitten me, hardcore. Yes, I love exploring new places. Since childhood the places I ever remember visiting are just a handful. Not more than 7 maybe. As I grew up, we shifted base and moved 150kms from the capital. Ain’t I thankful for that! The place I live in now is amazingly beautiful. Lush greenery, zero pollution, moderate population, a tourist destination etc. I am already in tears at the thought of leaving this place for good just for a job. Such is life eh?

For visual pleasure

My mother’s Arthritis has increased over the past couple of years. Sometimes she is unable to even sit up in bed. It is a very saddening sight. Mostly because of that our family had stopped visiting various places. Also my mom cannot climb trains and buses. We don’t own a car either, so it quite impossible to travel by our two wheelers everywhere. Eventhough we constantly offer various methods that might help her while at a new place (eg- a wheelchair in a smooth land, hiring taxi for long distance travels, occasional breaks, dining at new restaurants in town etc) just to cut her mundane routine at home, she has lost confidence in her ability to manage. Nevertheless, she is among the very few who are brave enough to make it at times when it matters to someone they love!

Even in-city exploration was never a part of our daily lives. We did not want to leave our mother home alone. They day my parents purchased me a two wheeler I was fascinated by the routes I rode on to college. Even then since I was adapted to ’staying-home-occasional-outing-routine’ it was difficult for me to break it.

As we grew up, I realized how I love nature. I can sit by the ocean all evening doing nothing. I can stand atop a mountain and click pictures just to please myself. I gawk at sunset. I am mesmerized by waterfalls. I love early morning bird calls. I love riding in the mist. I love the smell of wet earth. I love architecture. I love rains. I love summer. Spring is my favourite weather. I can never stop if I keep writing this…

Often I ask people to accompany me to various places, be it in-city or outside. My mother and my sibling are home bodies. They decline easily. Whereas my father and I love travelling. Its just not only about the place. It is also about the journey. We believe, to understand a new place behave like its local. We try as much as possible to take local transport and behave like one. It is fun. I have travelled to many new places even outside the state.

I have realized, unless you are suffering like my mother from a disease that fights back, it is always better to keep moving-literally! There is so much to see, so much to do, so much to remember that it might exhaust you. In a nice way :p The more you see the more you know. The more you know the better it is. Less critical, adaptive, hungry for more, exciting, awareness, pleased are some of the many emotions you go through.

It is for all its worth , worth exploring. Do not keep you child home and force him/her to study all day long. Take occasional breaks to break your monotone! For you and for them.

Safe Journey!

 

Cynical is – Moi

at times. I contradict my own thoughts through actions. Are we all insecure in things we think we believe? I often catch myself criticizing people who upload photos of family in social networking sites. It is known to be unsafe no matter what precautions you take. You never know how your school friend turns out to be because he definitely wouldn’t be the way you knew him. Circumstances and situations either make or break a person. So you meet him after 10years though these sites. How do you know how he is now?

I know everybody wants to share a piece of their exciting lives through photos, videos, status updates etc. But I find it scary to share photos of my shenanigans. I love love love photography. I click at every opportunity and there are many many photos I treasure with my life. Very recently I uploaded a couple of those. Specifically our mother nature. None with me or my family in it. Each picture has ‘nature‘ playing a character. I am blessed with creativity. I cannot find posing for a picture creative. I’d rather click them in spontaneity. So, you have the sun in many shades, ocean playing, a forest during dusk, reflection of an architectural monument in the water  etc. Am I not being cynical here? I love these pics and I ‘d probably be depressed for years if I ever lose them. Touch wood.

It isn’t even about trust. I trust. But not blindly.

Sometimes if you have observed (specifically the photo album of a beautiful/popular/smart girl from your college/class/a mutual friend) the comments for certain photos are simply not acceptable. She might have not even realized she is being harassed or else is simply loving those comments coming by the dozen. Even a casual photo of her posing with friend/s would have words like ‘hawt’, ‘lovely top’ etc. Errr?? Why would you want some random ‘guy-you-knew-in-std 1′ call you hawt ? How dare he? That is not a genuine comment. Why must he comment on what you are wearing? I don’t see your ‘best friend’ doing that. Don’t you find it unusual? His sight is quite perverted, is it not? This is harassment. This is what bothers me when I upload photos. My group of friends consists of people I think I know. I can’t lie to myself. But I still find it difficult to upload my pics.

Of course people aren’t as obsessed with other’s pics as theirs. Surely! People don’t think of you as much as you think they do. But when they do, I do not want such comments. I don’t even want to know what that ‘guy I met on my first day of school’ is upto.

Am I not being cynical?

 

Marriage- Be all end all?

Why is marriage the ultimate recognition for a woman? I’m 23 now and often hounded by why I wasn’t getting married yet? I’m in love, yes. I want to get married to him but why the hurry? I don’t want to marry just because I turned 23. I want to get married because I want to get married. I am an ambitious woman hell bent on improving myself for the better, even if the process doesn’t fetch me a degree. I want to be contributor not a complainer. I don’t see myself sitting at home and waiting for him to come back from office. I am an individual having various likes and dislikes. I want to get involved in many things that shape a person’s outlook. What will I get from sitting at home all day staring at the television?

I believe marriage is the union of two minds. Two individuals come together. Have opinions of your own, have likes of your own. It is not necessary to agree to everything he has opinions about. Agree to disagree. I love interior decor- he loves collecting DVDs. I build him a dvd shelf and he keeps it clean. Voila! Problem solved.

It is actually that simple. I am entering my 4th of relationship with him and not once have we judged each other’s individuality. He goes out with his women friends for lunch, I love spending time in solitude. Of course we have occasional tiffs about many things but we don’t put out the fire by changing oneself for the other. I don’t believe in ‘giving each other space‘ either. What does that mean? Wasn’t it wanting to stay together in the first place joined you love birds at the hip? Wasn’t it every waking moment you wanted him by your side? There’s the mistake many make. And that is the problem with hurried marriages.

My parents often tell me that marriages involve a lot of compromise. I heartily disagree. Just because my husband earns money and I run the home that doesn’t give him the liberty to sleep on the couch all day with kids running wild. Alright they see you earn. They learn the importance of money but what values are you instilling in them when they see you do nothing else but go to office and back. Are you educating your daughter about sexual harassment? Are you teaching your son the importance of respect?

The other day I asked my father why don’t most adults set a better example for their children? I have seen my uncles wile away their time in front of the television watching nothing of profound importance and yelling at their sons for incomplete work. Wouldn’t it be better if you helped? Many of the adults tell me that 50years of doing the same things same way has become a habit and they are unable to change it. Age- the age old excuse. Why do they stop growing/learning when they become parents? Why do they get angry when a child asks a thoughtful question to which they have no answer?

They dare tell me to set a better example for my children. I have seen you do things, questioned you wanting an honest answer out of your mouth and all you can tell me is to change the coming generation and not yours? I wouldn’t want to change them, I would want to change myself. Am I not your child? Am I not a generation younger to yours? What happened?

I am still growing as an individual. Age is just a number and I have enough proof to believe it. I want to learn what confidence is, responsibility is, fun is, emotions are. All these are possible on my own. Only when I know certain things can I teach my child and in turn learn from him/her.

There will be a day when I will get married wholeheartedly. Until then I’d rather learn from others what not to do.

 

Is this it?!?

For the past year I have been sitting at home waiting for things to happen. That feeling is the worst in the world. I know there is something good out there for me, yet some unknown element is holding me back and I am unable to reach it. Thanks to recession I was out of job, thanks to the team lead of my first job I had to resign, thanks to the corrupt (I came to know later) institution I had applied and sued and won, I was left without a job and a bleak future. I felt terrible and hopeless not knowing what lay next. But thankfully, I am feeling much better nowadays. I see change in sight. Change for the good. But you know, I don’t regret being jobless and sightless for a year. It was a full stop to my mundane life asking me to rethink things I was doing. I have grown up so much, learnt even more and eternally thankful that I was chosen to stop and thread on the stony road carefully. Heals can support you for only a distance.

The street I live in has about 10 homes on each side. More than half of them are run by housewives. I have great respect for women who choose to build a home over a career and an extra point to those who are forced to do so. Now that I am a generation younger to them I would definitely make my opinion heard if at all I am being pushed into submissiveness. Every evening I see some of them sitting leisurely outside their houses absentmindedly gazing at the goings on. They have children who have either left home or still at school or married off. I have always been told how busy life is for a woman when she is bringing up her child(ren). My mother often tells me she had no time to even breathe peacefully during those days but does not regret even a minute when it existed. She calls them her golden years.

My mother has worked all her life but took VRS 9years ago because of  her Arthritis. She’s 54 now and is happy at how her life has shaped up. But when I see other women I mentioned above I am confused. I see them sitting and staring at nothing at times with a bored look on their faces. Isn’t there anything else to do? Are they feeling what I have gone through? Desperation? Anger? Helplessness? Nothing to look forward to now that you have given wings to your children and a pot belly to your husband?

I hardly see them travel. Even within city limits. Has staying at home all these years diminished your confidence? Has you ability to try vanished? Ok, your children have left home to live their lives. But that is why children are for. You have given them wings to fly. They will make something of their lives. Go for yours. There are a million things to do. Travel, read, take up a new hobby, gardening et all.

As each day passes by we learn, we live through our bad times, rejoice the good, love for all its worth and simply live. But I have noticed a pattern in many adults that they stop living. They simply exist. Instead of putting your foot forward why take it backward? Shouldn’t growing up make you stronger and more willed? Or is it the other way round?

 

Why even ask?

A roar of blast is heard, window panes rattle and shocks of cry escape from our peaceful city. My mother must have swallowed an encyclopedia right after birth. She quickly guessed it must have been a fighter jet practicing for the air show (to be held at our state’s capital, 200kms from where I live). As a child my mother lived close by to an air base and she would constantly hear jets roaring and scaring innocent (ignorant) civilians.

I get a call from a friend of mine.

She: Hey, did you hear the blast? What was that?

Me: What blast?

She: Just now. Our window panes were rattling.

Me: Oh that. That was a fighter jet.

She: No no. Switch on the T.V. Its being reported its a bomb blast.

Me: *What rubbish* Of course it isn’t. It happened a second ago. How can they report that already? It was a fighter jet. It travels faster than light. Hence the rattling.

She: How do you know?

Me: My mother told me. She went through it every other day as a child.

She: No it isn’t *losing temper*. Its a bomb blast. Call you later.

Me: ?!?

I switched on the t.v to watch what hullabaloo were they reporting. Unsurprisingly, there wasn’t any such damn thing being reported. They concluded the news briefing us on the air show practice. I get a message from her informing me it was a fighter jet and not a blast. She was furiously blaming everyone else for convincing her it was a blast as she had called up every friend in town and was embarrassed now.

Eh?

Tell me, why do questions exist? Ask, honey. Ask. Don’t believe everything others tell you. Look around. Read. I get extremely irritated while talking to such people who are convinced whatever they are saying is the only truth and nothing else should matter. When you already know whatever you want to know why even ask?

 

Breast cancer, Not!

After reading this magazine on women’s health, I was oh-so-very-cautious of even a small pimple on me. I became suspicious of anything funny on my skin and inside.

It came as a terrible shock one night when I could feel a lump on my left breast. Immediately, my head was convinced that I had breast cancer and made a list of things I still needed to do. I was petrified and unable to calm down. Family was asleep as I was watching a movie that ran into the night. I lie down on my bed soon after that, literally dumbstruck. My god, I never knew how many regrets you can have in life if death stands close by.

So there I was calling up my man at 2 a.m. Poor him, picked up my call and the first thing he told me was he missed me. How ironic! I told him about the problem and the calm man that he is could not help get a bit scared. He begged me to visit the doctor even before cock’s crow and I accepted. Within 5 min into the whispered conversation, he calmed down and told me in ’surety’ there was no problem, no breast cancer and I wouldn’t die. He knows stuff I tell you.

I panicked because there are a million things I want to do before I die. Early next morning, my mother and I left for the clinic. Our family doctor has been treating my mother for her arthritis since 12 years and he’s literally seen me grow up. He knew me before I had grown boobs. So there I was lying on the patient’s table. He asked me to lift my tee as high as possible and unhook my bra or atleast the left cup. It was the first time in my life that a doctor had felt my boob for examination and I was terribly embarrassed. Yes, I am childish that way! He happily told me it was to be ignored and asked me to get it checked if I needed more confirmation. I rushed to the lab and was appointed a doctor. He came in and asked me to lie down and open the left cup of my bra. I was used to it by then. Sigh! He then applied some gel and pricked a needle into the lump and pulled in the gooey liquidy thing from the lump into the syringe. Have you seen a cycle pump in motion?!? Similar it was.

I was asked to press my bandaged boob to avoid swelling and bleeding. Within an hour I was home and the report came out in the evening. I went back to my family doc and sighed a sigh of relief looking at him smiling at the report. I was given a thumbs-up.

But you know, this experience was an eye opener. I am not scared to die. I don’t want to at this stage because I am selfish. I have a million things to do and do for. I ain’t going so soon

 

Anger is a letter short of danger

My parents are back from Tirupathi. The place is known for its unmanageable crowd, in-disciplined people, mob mentality and other such anger inducing circumstances. Being the richest God in the country, its no wonder most people cry foul right from the temple’s entrance. The guards have no tolerance for anyone requesting/complaining/hesitating/hurt/bruised and manhandle people to move ahead quickly in line. You hardly get to see the idol a milli second and the next milli second you find yourself pushed ahead 100 meters by the incoming crowd. Such is life there. Knowing that, it should be in your capacity to calm yourself to handle such a stressful situation.

My family is filled with angry people, not to mention the worst-heath-award which has been permanently crowned. A small avoidable incident is capable of triggering deafening voices, opinions and words. You can imagine what must have happened at Tirupathi, can’t you?

Sentiments came into picture. My father, an Atheist wasn’t too keen in visiting the temple. His mother forced him to come along citing emotional reasons. His brother weighs 120kgs and wasn’t keen either as the walk had scared him. His wife didn’t spare him either. This man is known for his hideous temper. She should have known better shouldn’t she?!? They reach the temple with a couple more people by 11 a.m. They exit by 4 p.m. I was told people were shouting at each other, blaming each other for opting to visit, screaming hoarse, moaning for headaches to perish, wishing they weighed much less, arguing for no reasons et all.

You had been there solely to get a glimpse of the God, hadn’t you?!? You seem to talk anything but God. Did you even look at the idol? Did you ask for whatever you wished? Did you once thank others looking after you? No. Why should you lose your temper despite knowing the situation there? Can’t you for once be open minded? Can’t you for once live the moment? Can’t you for once spare my ears? There are many more like you who wait for more than you could. What about them? Alright, its fair enough to feel angry since the vibe, the whole atmosphere is filled with anxious and equally unhealthy people but can’t you think yourself out of it? Why yell at your wife? Why can’t the wife for once think practical than emotional? Why let anger rule over a memorable moment? Why eat our heads if you couldn’t handle it better? Why set such a bad example to your children?

I simply fail to understand what is it with these adults? It is us students who have to be worried. We still have so many things to accomplish before we sigh in peace. You have everything at your disposal, why can’t you work toward bettering yourself atleast? We are also watching what you do. Get going.

You seem to know better don’t you as you keep mentioning/chanting/preaching you have lived much more, seen a lot more. Despite doing all that, you are unable to control yourself. Eh? You lost me there. You are all talk, nothing else.

Bah. Anger I tell you

 

Growing Up you call it?

I met her at 17, became friends at 18, stood by when she fell back a step at 19, chose different paths at 20, graduated with flying colours at 21. The bad part was I was looked down upon for having ‘different’ opinions and tastes by 22, secrets-backbiting-lies-zero comfort level by 23. I am 23 now. I can’t stand the sight of her. I don’t hate her. Hate is a strong word. Nor do I like her. I feel myself clamming up each time I am in her presence. I am not me. Since the past couple of months I have noticed a pattern in her. She puts me down. Each time she talks to me, I find her deliberately insulting me. She uses humour to make me feel bad. At the beginning, I rubbed it off as harmless sarcasm. But now I am sure it is her insecurity that is making me walk away from her. She feels pleasure picking on me. This is the story of a friendship gone sour.

Personally, a crack in a relationship I give my everything to is difficult to mend. I simply cannot put back the fallen pieces and stick them with glue. I cannot pretend nothing happened and live with it. I am uncompromising that way. Yes, all of us experience good things and bad. Sometimes worse. Many learn from it, many don’t. I am often confused while reading proverbs like ‘what goes around comes back around’, ‘you get back what you give’, ‘be good, do good’ etc. Are they mere sayings or does karma really exist? In this case, I give her the benefit of doubt just because I’ve known her so long. She couldn’t have changed overnight.

In my case, I have changed. For my own sake.