"Lets Pretend to be Happy and Independent "

After a thousand peaceful and devastating protests, we received as what we call Independence.

It's been 68 years and we should be proud of it. 'Should be', but are we? 

Now when the whole nation says we are advancing, Modi-fied with our new man in charge who beautifully talks about toilets in his long Independence Day speech, I sit there on my table wondering is it me losing it or does India actually need to start growing from something as little as a toilet (pun Strongly intended). Any-which way, loved how he spoke about these things, never heard any big-man talking about "Toilets" with us. 

But the question here is of Independence, after being Modi-fied myself, I left the TV and started pondering, Is it my freedom to piss properly that matters or do women need more than that?

Maybe when an employer puts a hand on some female's thigh, she will need a "toilet" to shove the shock and terror up hers' and come out pretending Nothing' happened. Maybe when a freak will grab female assets in public humiliating the womanhood out of her, she will need a "toilet" to cry and wish she could remain a little girl with no bums and boobs. And maybe even the strongest of women need a "toilet" before they have to speak up front of sixty men ogling, because she has this fear she might not return home in one piece. 

So definitely, a toilet is the need of the hour! 

I feel helpless that being a woman I have to be content with the little luxuries  being, huge home, heavy financing, foreign trips, and of course the gold and the diamond bits. Only there is no better choice of contentment for a woman, I completely agree but what if they want more. What if I want big luxuries like walking on the road, fearless? 

Then these clean toilets aren't going to make me feel relieved. 

Everyday I hear or read articles, and chat with my girlfriends about how hard all of us have to try to bridge the gap between men and us. It gets tiring because even if you work hard professionally and if your boss is only paying you to look at your cleavage then nothing becomes worth the hard work. 

I mean, do these men ever jolt their graymatter and have the slightest idea of what a woman will feel like. She might even start thinking if she's giving out whorish energies to the world.

Then I ask everybody the same question, Are women Independent? 

A no with hatred and disgust is what I have been hearing all these years. I wish I could call it a Happy Independence Day, but I genuinely feel Independence should not be something written in papers sixty eight years ago and hulahooping' the same thing for the rest of the civilization till date. 

Times have changed but not the mind sets. I may be wrong with all these thoughts knowing that India being an extremely complexed country where there are ten different kinds of public, from those sleeping under the Metro bridge, to those spending weekends on  top of Burj Khalifa, to those finding their middle identities in between. They need to be taken care off differently. But this is about Women, who are handled, rather mishandled by most of men this country has. So this can not be a Happy day, at least for me. And I am sure every women at one point or the other feels the same.

You can not feel the freedom when you look all modern but are intimidated by those beastly eyes when you go out for a walk. This is not called Independence.Women are losing respect with every passing year and there is nothing to celebrate about this. I pray for the day where every female in this country could pootle all chin-up, smirking at all these type of men with their groin covered up. And Good Lord, will they understand what it feels like to treat your body parts as your shame.

Till then, it's a Happy Dependence Day to all my beautiful Ladies out there. 

Love.

P.S. 'All men are not same, but when a girl goes public, not every man is willing to see her like somebody's wife, sister or mother.'

"You are magic, I am magic, This world is Magic"

There are times in our lives where we feel collapsed under the burden of problems around us. We say, "The world wasn't made for me, I better be dealing with my baggage and be up and running soon". But is it necessary, always, to think like that. Think like you have to die fighting, for Job, for money, for education, for good people, for peace. It can be really simpler than simple, We say" The world WAS made for me, Yes I better stop thinking that there is any baggage and run to live my beautiful life because it's all magic happening every minute."

Magic when tears roll down and suddenley you get a call from a friend to make you roll down from bed laughing. Magic when you sit on the park bench trying to finish a problem and a toddler comes up ,and  you deviate only to find the answer to your problem. Magic when you get grumpy over that expensive coffee cup on the aircraft, and then you see the most beautiful marshalling of clouds and your coffee becomes worth it. Magic when you meet a person for seconds years ago and after years now,  you're seconds away to marry him.

This life is Magic. You are too. Hence, I too am.

You could be in an instant surrounded by things, only if you need them. "Ask and it will be given to you, seek and you will find it; knock and it will be opened to you. {7:7 Holy Bible}". Just believe your life is always guided by a good force, guided on bigger things excluding shelter, clothes , dollars and morons. Ofcourse, this life is a fight. But we've changed the reason for this fight. The reason has always been something else. We fought for a Life, not just a lifestyle.

This week, try living it simpler, loving simple things such as giving yourself a break from work and dancing to your favourite tune or continuing with your work with as simple a protocol as taking up One thing for a day and accomplishing it at the end. Take up small and simple, give it your best and you'll be happiest when it's done. 

Arguments, adrenaline, disagreements, disappointments and PMS will always make you want to throw a grenade at this world but just breathe In', all of that, because after it, will be your big Magic.

"After one royally screwed day, comes Three heavenly days". Live this formula and one day you'll be all grey-haired thinking how many happy days you have spent. And this life will be Magic, You are too. Hence, I too am. 

To all the Magic people,

Love

Till I meet You again…

"All human plans are subject to revision , or fate or whatever one preferred to call the powers behind this universe" - Arthur C Clarke (Odyssey two)

Unpredictability it is, ruling over our plans of making money, making babies, making a marriage. We all know what this Unpredictability means.

What remains then? Something that will keep the strings connected , even after we leave this world. Love-The only true thing that joins us to our loved ones now and after they leave.

That 365th morning of 2013 , and that last breakfast with my daddy was Love. The last little soft whisper of my name and that last bite of cake was Love. His last fear and that last drop of tear was Love. Love of not wanting to separate himself from us. Love that is truer than any other sense of love this world establishes. Love of a father for his kids and family.

I never knew what a 'last time' is,  until that morning.

And the last one year was a tough fight. But made daddy Close to what i think God is.

What happens when someone dies? There are a thousand books on it but only one experience that makes you feel you're closer to the ones who have no physical body. This is how I believe in God. He can never be visible for me but he is always there. That is the truest form of love I encounter ; not seeing the physical body but trusting a form more than I trust myself. And now I see my father just the same way. 

Everyday I hear people are dying of something or the other, and their families are crying for that one thing and making it everything they ever had to do. It is natural and normal. But what's abnormal is when you don't feel anything has happened after you lose someone close. What's abnormal is when you see your father losing his breath and sinking in his own fluids and you don't cry. When you sit in an ambulance with his expired body and you don't feel anything. Because you know that the body does not have him in it. That body I travelled back with that evening was not my father driving me to usual places but me taking his cover back home. That was not my father and this thinking is not normal.

This is life , unpredictable , abnormal in all its forms. You never know when you get fired, or deliver your baby premature , earn a million dollars or just a few kisses from your mother. You never know anything. And today I stand and salute 'Thy Unpredictability' and fall in love with that 'someday' again.

'Someday' when I will meet Papa.  

Until then Live my days with 'his' dreams in my head and strength in my arms. Someday where my surety will gift me the pleasure of meeting him whenever shall I be starting my journey to the other world. Until then , I hope for those wonderful nights where i'll meet him in my dreams like I do and wake up every morning with a smile of his presence. 

Big things cut short, you lose people in your life. Father , mother , siblings and friends , and  it actually doesn't stop you from living. It makes you understand , that up there is a different story. Up there' is no pain. And here we are all living in unpredictability. 

Losing a Father is losing your sense of walking without fear. My father too , was my shield. But something changed when he was gone. I now always find him watching and taking care of me and I never felt more secure . It's a settlement he made with me before leaving else I never would have let him go.

P.S. Fifty things that we can control every morning , and then a hundred which are beyond our control. This tragedy is our bittersweet life. And beyond that we can know Nothing and hence, become everything in our lifetime. Your purpose should be counting happy times. 

"Things are the same except that we can't touch you"
I am, because you Are. 

The proactive girl

Pink - Pretty - Petite girls ! 

What flashes in our heads? Barbie dolls ? Rich blondes, maybe ? 

In these times of drought for respect and a downpour of rapes, we have started acting like defeatists , who are angry and miserable at the same time. Angry enough to desex the accused and miserable enough to just behold these baby crawling sexual laws and do nothing. 

Ergo, it is not our fault that we have started looking at pink - pretty and petite girls as weak natured, mentally as well as physically.

But the question is , are girls supposed to be Hulks' in protecting their honeypots from some sick rascals? Should they carry cricket bats and knives instead of clutches? Are we scared of this pink prettiness now, Just because it has become a notion that the more you flaunt your womanhood and attributes connected to it, the more you are jeopardising your body. 

I have always been more inclined towards tomboyish rather than my pink side, and honestly, from the first ever rape case i heard to thousands till date , i too, started irking with these pint-sized girls (with no offence) and  their 'not wanting to kill the bastard' look when they got groped in public. But the thing i learnt is that managing your actions and reactions proactively gives you the power of being the kind of woman you already are. Hulk or Pink doesn't make a difference. Your proactive brain does! 

God made a girl heavenly beautiful from the outside let alone inside because that is going to take me to another wonderful tangent altogether. And Lord , she has a right to look all pink - pretty and petite in public. 

Why changing your comforts when you are ogled at ,by perverts. The power lies in your brain, the way it reacts to the ogling. If you are a kind who will smash balls' and make eyes black and blue , feel free. If you are kind who will give devilish smirks and use the word of mouth ability to publicly demean the rascal , feel free. But freedom is what you should be carrying with you all the time. This feeling of 'feel free' should be your strength in taking actions. 

You will not be saved by a He-man or even a boyfriend as these deviants are mental enough to behead him before they proceed further. YOU ARE YOUR OWN SAVIOUR. Know where you are, get information about every unknown place if you're leaving alone on a project or work or recce always keep some loved ones in the loop with wherever the road is leading you. Learn to judge a little bit when talking to strangers. Learn the difference between Day light and Owl light and how you chose your conveyance during these hours. Office and Bar are two different places , likewise taking help or helping yourself are two different actions. 

If a man tries to cross a limit in office , raise voice-' Literally'. If a man tries to cross a limit in a Bar , tell him you have a penis instead of looking for your boyfriend. That is how this world works 'now', and you should be updated instead of giving your complaint boxes to useless policemen.

Yes, you can't change the world standing alone as a girl - Bitter Truth.

But you can change minds of people who've held misconceptions about your being 

Pink and Petite - Proactive. 

Being a girl shouldn't make you weak.You may not be physically capable of fighting off six men , But do not let that fear run your life and your brain.

Be confident with yourself and have faith nothing will go wrong. Be wise , brain wise.

Love to all. 

Living on a Cemetery of Dreams......

Life is an unfaltering race; of thoughts, successes, failures, broken bonds, unbroken bonds, good deeds, bad deeds and this indeed is an unceasing race. We don't want to see ourselves 'not wining' and we keep running , unconsciously hoping to be winged and elevate us. But how many of us actually stop for a while and probe the mere reason of our being in the race? I am sure many of  us did, do or want to, some get an answer some don't. Even i did not get a "Soul-call" so i thought i should be getting back to running but could not. The answer of my being in the race is still a question mark but i did found myself running on the Cemetery of my own Dreams. Because when i stopped i saw a dozen catacombs of the little dreams i someday dreamt............

Dreams that were not meant to make my night exciting but dreams that took my sleep away for days....they lay dead,....and unfulfilled . And that made me cease my own race because i have to bring those unfulfilled dreams back to life.

"THERE CAN BE NO FAILURE UNTIL I SURRENDER TO FAIL"...just when i thought i am beyond broken to dream again, 'some force' has made me fall in love with the word 'failure'. And i acknowledge these  graves were not meant to be dug.

We shed countless tears, refrain ourselves from dreaming again but a day  comes when we realize the mere ground beneath us is a cemetery of dreams-millions of them!!

So now i know, where my feet are, and before i wing myself' , i endeavor to become my own god and extricate  these dreams from the dead.......'my own God' as i am still too stubborn to give a name to that 'force'!! :)

LINE of CONTROL

I look back and find my childhood a mere 'hoot' for the public.  They pried my mother and assured her that t'was a fight for "OUR"  land- Kashmir. Its been 10 years and the assurance still lingers. But i don't see our belonging to our land.

May be the "Line of Control"  has surpassed all humanity.

Infinite liters of blood have submerged within this land and still i hear voices say t'was a ' libation' for their religion and the blood has gone for the gods. May be the ' Line of Control' accepts this kind of  so called 'legal' tavern which sells blood among the people and make em' high in devastation and fear. I am made flesh-Blood n Bone but have no body to call my own, no land to live and for  

'them' may be i don't even exist. A big-wig died in a blast yesterday and i see a hateful reverberation.

May be the " Line of Control" decides that a thousand more dead bodies will equal this man's dying.

I am innocent and all i want is to see a place where more adults like me can go out, recce the beauty that ' could have' sustained in this paradise. But the paradise is history now turned into a battlefield and we are loitering as a bunch of zombies seen by no one, heard by no one, yet assured that the fight is for OUR land- Kashmir. For me and some more thousand innocents it is a life threatening question; THE chaos has prolonged more than a decade. Now i have gone numb towards the man who lay dead either in a uniform or a pathani kurta' 

All i want to ask is: Has every one forgotten about the brotherhood that once existed on this land, the people who belonged and were born here?

May be this time the " Line of Control" has notified the fight-for only the land and not for the people.

So i say, Go ahead and keep the war lifted up.

And i assume someday Kashmir will either be at the right

of LOC or the left but am afraid its own people won't be there to

raise their hands to god, only these few papers to let them be aware

that…

WE ALL WANTED TO LIVE A LIFE RULED BY NO LINE OF

                                           CONTROL!! !! !! !!

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Can i sing ??

"Spring has past , Summer has gone , and Spring is here . And the song that i meant to sing remains unsung "

                                        I see the openness encompassing the sky

                                          the freshness building within leaving me no boundaries

                                          my urge to let loose the hidden child knocks frequently

                                          'I hear the tune but i just look'

I see momma' mixing all the aromatic spices in the kitchen
for me to forget the bitter picture and grow with the sweetness of her hands
i walk towards her, to say thank you
'I hear the tune but i just look'

I see the man who envisaged my little eyes when he held me the first time,

as the eyes that shall see the good.

the man who stood up being my aegis, loving every year of me,

the years got bigger and wilder , but his love remained alike

he stands there talking with someone , i look at the hands,

and still looked bigger than mine. i move ahead to hold em' once again

'I hear the tune but i just look'

I see a girl who waited for me to come out of the womb.

Amazing the feeling was for her back then,

and the amazement never can die 'she says                                    

i still am unable to realize why she always quit first in a fight

i see her dealing with her own grown up life, i get up to kiss her

'I hear the tune but i just look'

I see a boy who found me when i needed love 

he saw me in all my moods' and never complained

i see him now playing football ,the happiness on his face

makes me think whether i was able to inculcate a lasting love?

the words plead for a leeway, i start walking closer

'I hear the tune but i just look'

I see my folks getting way ahead in their lives ,

i call them to say they still are geniuses vexing every part of me,

we never stop rolling down, laughing on our own selves

the phone gets disconnected but never my desire to tell them

how much i miss them', my fingers start to redial...

'I hear the tune but i just look'

                                         

I see every fourth human being living in a deep melancholy

i hear their notes , feel their pain and their urge for a change.

my hands are ready to cling onto theirs , yet they tremble

i feel the lack of trust .... i demand a change in my perceptions

'I hear the tune but i just look'

The song of my life i always can hear

the tunes aren't creating a symphony

not because they're unclear but

because i let them drown in fear.

MOST of us live our lives with our greatest song remaining unsung.

let your real self get out of you.

love all ....live the moment .