Chapter 1 : How it all Began

Their eyes met and the surroundings melted into mist.For the length of a few seconds it felt incredible, incredibly so.Then, as always, life pulled them back into its big bountiful, fold. The music blaring from the speakers, the smoke from a hundred cigarettes, the loud clinking of glasses and mugs, all of it made their presence felt. Noone seemed to have noticed how that fleeting moment had touched two lives, possibly forever.He looked for her after, discreetly searching the crowd for one more glimpse. She tried to stay longer, coaxing her friends for one more drink. It didnt work.

Even when he stumbled out of that neon lit universe of a disco, his mind was filled with that single image of the night. That haunting face, that smile below eyes crying for help, that little fringe she was trying to tuck when they had frozen in time. They say such is destiny, it gives you glimpses of something you have dreamed about without knowing what it was all your life. She, Hari decided, was his.

She had been silent all the way home. She laughed at the cues from others, mimicking the rest of the gang. No one noticed that she was replying in mono syllables. As she combed her hair before bed, she saw his face in the mirror: not the usual hunk women faint over, but there was an intensity to his eyes, a confidence in his face as of one who knew where he was heading in life. She slept fitfully, twisting and turning, held in that gaze that didnt break even after all these hours. He, Maya decided, was trouble.

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PS: The beginning of my work of fiction which has died and resurrected over and over again. Am hoping this time making it public will make me being it to more than a few chapters. To what end ?? I have no clue

The Elevenses Tag …

I hate Tags. Of all sorts. But when one of your few readers tags you, you gotta do it. Am hoping Usha, who tagged me here, feels my answers are enough. Anyhow, I wont tag anyone, because firstly I am not sure anyone will respond and secondly noone will want to answer the kind of questions I ask.

The Rules:

1. You must post the rules.
2. Answer the questions the tagger set for you in their post and then create eleven new questions to ask the people you’ve tagged. (That’s a toughie  )
3. Tag eleven people and link to them on your post. (I am not tagging anyone, so anyone who gets here and will take up the dare to answer my questions, have fun)
4. Let them know you’ve tagged them! (Saves me from doing this )

Now to the Questions:

1. In one word, what have you gained, in life, that you hold most precious? (there, that rules out “weight”   )

My education. Not the degrees but the learning from all of Lifes teachers. Starting from my Grandpa to those poor souls who had to bear me through college.
2. In three words, a pet peeve?

Someone asking me, “When do you plan to get married ?” or ” Eppo Kalyanam ?”
3. A word you think you use a lot, unconsciously  ?

“Actually” – Blame it on Mohanlal.

4. What is it that you love to do, most, and would rather spend your time doing it?

Work with animals. Wanted to be a veterinarian but sucked at biology. Now dream to own a farm
5. What do you think others think of you?

A nice guy, often a little arrogant.
6. Who would you say made you who you are today (other than your parents, if that is what you would answer  )

My teachers and my friends. They have touched my life in so many ways , teaching me valuable lessons, some good some bad.
7. What gives you joy?

A babys laughter, butterflies flitting about in the sunshine and dogs (Currently one far away called Luci is my favorite)
9. If you could go back to one moment in your past, which moment would it be?

A day in 2007, an evening, a walk around a park in Koramangala. Anything for those few hours again.

10. Do you believe in alternate lifetimes? If so, what is the you there doing now? (It’s actually one question, with two parts  )

Dont believe in any such nonsense. But humouring the question, I would be a renowned social avtivist flying across the globe fighting for the poor and the uncared, both human and animal.
11. What makes you you?

I have no clue. Like to believe am still growing as a person, like a character from a movie, each scene adding depth to what makes me me.

Now Come my Eleven questions to the Eleven souls who decide to take it up:

1. What do you think is one adjective that defines you aptly ?

2. If you were to be famous, what would you be famous for ?

3. Cats or Dogs ? Why ?

4. Who is your 2 a.m. friend ? Have you ever made that call ?

5. Do you believe in Love at First Sight ?

6. How many countries have you visited (transit in an airport doesnt count unless you went sightseeing) ?

7. What lead you to this blog ? or Who ?

8. Which is the one book / movie , you think everyone should see ?

9. Who is the one celebrity you wish would be struck by lightning ? Why ?

10. What kind of music do you listen to ? What is you favorite track ?

11. Final Question : How do you want your epitaph to read?”

There you go , its done. Now if any of you are ready to take it up, feel free. Do leave a comment if you do, I will check it and share a few thoughts.

Cheers

Are you Married ?

Marriage is a funny affair

A promise  to have and to hold

An unsaid vow to care

A simple lie so beautifully told.

 

I would rather stay alone

Fight the forces that always nag

Get a dog like Luci, one my own

In solitude, in peace, I will lag

 

I dont need company when I am old

I dont want marriage to make the bloodline flow

I am not greedy for pots of gold

I like this life, a vision in my own kind of glow

 

My parents wont have to fight the daughter in law

My brothers wife wont have to compete for her share

I will bear this curse, this life of flaw

And the Dog will give me all the love and care

 

My old age wont be a pain of lonely nights

I wont miss someone I never had

I will travel the world on last minute flights

Be free, be funny, be stark raving mad.

 

Of  the dreams and hopes that I strongly hold

The twists of time seem not to care

As each hand in submission I slowly fold

This game, this life, is definitely not fair

 

Are you married they ask in mock

I am happily unmarried I tell them all

And as they gape in plain old shock

I walk away, happy until life’s next fall

The Indian Man’s Side – On Women and Weddings

Ok Enough ! I have read, heard and seen enough laments about how women loose everything after a marriage. The men are often portrayed as evil, conniving sons of b*****s who have nothing better to do but make a woman’s life hell. This here is our side of the story, the average Indian guy.

Lets see, the average Indian boy, is born into a middle class family by some wicked twist of fate and biology. Our parents are all evil and dont abort as often as is propagated (abortions are usually due to medical issues not after screening the gender).

We are usually sent to school where we get our asses kicked by girls in terms of everything academic, and by bigger, meaner boys in terms of everything sporty. We are often nicknamed here, and that carries on well thru adulthood until the grave (Note: The name need not be one we like, but we get used to it). Our parents usually get really pissed when we get beaten by anyone, but more often than not its a girl, hence the phrase ” You got beaten by a girl.” This usually is the only phase where we hate girls. And we make it pretty evident by pulling your hair, fighting with you, throwing things at you etc. But by the time we grow out of those ugly shorts, we have learned to restrain ourselves.

Then we go to college, that most magical of lands. We often get our first heartbreak here. Women who rule our hearts and turn our minds into mulch, don’t seem to be aware of our existence. We learn to drink and smoke here. Mostly from conniving friends and seniors who just want some fun (it is kind of a tradition, one we learn to appreciate). Here some of us get lucky and find a girl who seems to think being with someone like us is not such a bad deal. Most of these end after college, as the women chase bigger dreams. Before you say that is because we dont compromise: We are willing to compromise, if we have any clue where we were headed. Our futures are pretty hazy at this juncture and that hard found job cant be thrown away. All the women here are well remembered, most wistfully, some lovingly and we sometimes name our girls with one of the names from this past.

We are raised, trained, to be the bread earners. We are ashamed when a woman has to pay, because we learn its not the chivalrous thing to do, not because we think woman shouldnt. Most of us know how to cook. We have lived away from family and have had to enter the kitchen more than once. Our menu is not limited to toast, eggs and maggi. We just dont like admitting it. We save it for a surprise for a woman we woo. A home cooked candle light dinner is something we consider the best of all dates. Most of us dont ever have one.

Then comes career. We have no issues with a female boss or a colleague. We often appreciate the fact that a woman adds a different side to our arguments. We also love it that we get to see a person of the other sex around. Yes, we like both the intellect and the presence of a body that smells like sunshine. We are awkward in our interactions, because mainly we just dont know where to draw a line. We dont know what is ok and what is not. And we dont want to lose our jobs on some insane charges of sexual harrasment. We just go along, trodding the well worn boring path, saving money for a car, a flat, and many other invisible somethings in the future. Women who we come across are completely appreciated for that added dash of color they bring to our lives.

Then comes marriage. Ok Lets be honest. We are not the best of the lot. The only criteria we are judged on is usually some invisible reputation that our forefathers left behind and the package we earn. We also face the unrelenting aunts and nosy uncles who make us feel impotent because we arent married. We are constantly questioned about our choices, our dressing sense, our next salary hike/job change, our plans for the future, our drinking habits, our account balances. Any woman who through some stroke of fortune considered us good enough to be friends with disappear here. After a lot of third degree questioning, they find someone they think is a perfect match. By now, most men have no clue what they want. So much psychological wear and tear plus emotional blackmail happens that we leave everything in the hands of our makers. Our parents cant be wrong can they?

Finally a girl, luckily or unluckily gets approved. Please note, we understand the rejections. We also have been rejected. Then comes the whole band, baaja, baaraat. The girl gets to dress up as an angel while we get a new suit. We dont complain. We consider ourselves lucky that a woman gets decked out with so much effort for us. That probably is the only thing we notice. All other times we are just smiling our jaws off and trying to figure out how much the wedding has cost us. We hold big bachelor bashes coz married life is supposed to make us responsible. Because that might be the only night we can black out and sleep on a friends couch with no worries about whos at home.

Yes, we worry. We arent experienced in dealing with women. The ones we have dealt with seemed pretty capable of taking care of themselves. We would love it if you also had a job. We dont mind doing the dishes. We will happily do grocery shopping. The only problem is we have no clue how to. Our dishes were done by a maid that often went absent for  days. We shopped only on the nights we cooked and often forgot something and invented new combinations in the kitchen. We do clean our houses, we just dont do it as often as women do. If you also dont mind a mess, let it be. If you need a patient listener when you come home from work, let us know. We dont sense that something is wrong as well as women do, mostly because we dont knw the body language. When you cry, it breaks our hearts but we often dont know what to do.

We arent color blind but we dont know what color matches you. You always look beautiful to us. We hate shopping for exactly this reason. We dont know curtains, we never needed them (we often covered our windows with bedsheets).  We seriously dont notice when you put on a kilo here and there. We are often busy trying to hide the fact that our pants dont fit anymore. We dont mind you having friends who are men. We are often a lil jealous coz we arent that cool. We hope against hope that you wont mind us drinking. That male bonding to us is like shopping to women. Stress release. We would love it if you can share a drink. We just havent seen many women drink. So dont be surprised if we gape when you say yes to a shot.

In finality. Men dont take you for granted. We do seek your approval but we dont know how to express it. We love you in a million ways but just dont know how to show it. We often dont notice new earrings or jewellery coz we were never taught to look. We are also just learning, bear with us. We really do appreciate that you put up with the crap that our parents sometimes dish out. We get angry often for no fault of yours. Its ourselves we are cursing internally.

PS: If i missed anything thats coz I am a total idiot. Also, please note that i have wonderful female friends who drink with me, dance with me and are just the same to me as men are. But the above situation is the more common Indian man, before I saw Bangalore.  If the above doesnt meet your stereotype that is because, we are not noticed. If you differ to something, leave a comment. If you think I need to explain myself somewhere, I wont.

 

Update: I just realize this is going to get a lot more attention than earlier expected. But please think about it before reacting. Its true if you are willing to open your eyes to it. ” According to your faith, let it be to You” ( I am an atheist but cant help quoting something so apt here)

Blog me a Poem

Blogging is a funny thing to do

A way out of  routine and a nice break too

Total freedom to say the things you want

To rant, to speak out and to touch a million minds

 

The start is the easy part

You register, login and begin to talk real smart

Your thoughts pour out loud and clear

Matters of the heart, issues that are dear

 

The flow ebbs as time goes by

The million minds dont say hi

The posts waver and come to a halt

You start doubting if its your fault.

 

Getting attention isnt that easy

And the blogosphere isnt for the lazy

Churn out content night after day

And comment to others ,  have your say

 

The views will come, I promise you this

If your blog doesnt lose its fizz

So what are you waiting for, go write another post

Let out that thought, that poem, that crazy ghost.

 

Waiting

A Tail of Love

There are so many stories of the dead..
Oh haunted houses, wizards and how people bled..
Some names even are not mentioned out loud..
Like Voldermont, every Harry has a dark looming cloud..

My girlfriend of old had her pet scare..
A mouse so tiny, glimpses were rare..
But i hate that little ball of fur..
It has often kept me from her..

She would see it when it wasnt there..
and cling on me while i smelled her hair..
But one day the mouse made me mad..
It stole from me the kiss i never had..

We were so close our noses we touching..
When with a squeak, havoc it did fling..
She forgot the kiss and everything else..
The moment passed and never came thence..

I wonder what could kill that rat..
Hit it on the head with a brick bat..
But all the plans i hatched fell flat..
When she adopted the creature and called me fat..

Now i sit and wonder what went wrong..
How did the tune change to my song..
All eggs in one one basket crushed to the ground..
I ponder when love will visit me next time round..

In Her Eyes..

 

 

Can you see it in her Eyes ?

Does her face not give it away ?

 Are words really needed on such a day ?

This is heaven, with hell to pay.

 

Hold her in this moment forever

Don’t break the spell, hold her nearer

Let the magic hold you in its sway

Have all of eternity in a day

 

Swing her in your arms to that silent tune

Kiss her tonight under the full new moon

Make it a night she cant forget

Make it a memory that never gathers dust..

Welcome to India

When did being born become a crime ?

When did an education become a privilege ?

Who said love is punishable by death ?

Why does getting married to the person you love seem such a bad idea?

If divorces are allowed by law, why are people so afraid of the idea ?

Crazy and unbelievable as they may seem, this is reality. This is India. Welcome

Here, babies are killed, thrown into the gutter or a waste bin just because they were born female. Here, children, right from the moment they are able to walk start hard manual labour, making everything from match sticks to fire crackers, from washing dishes to watering plants, to feed themselves and their families. Education isnt an option for them. Oh yes, they have reservation, which often helps the already well off to save more money in sending their kids to the best colleges without any merit. Here, lovers are killed in the name of honour, often entire families coming together to massacre two poor souls who didnt nothing more than love each other. Here, marraiges are arranged, often like cricket matches are fixed, based on caste, status and bank balance of the families than on common interests or passions that might give the marraige a chance. Here divorcees are always at fault, blamed for bringing a bad mark to the family name, which somehow was untarnished by anything in ages. Here, women on the lowest strata of society are more likely to raise their voices against oppression than their richer sisters who were brought up to be submissive, bharatiya naris. Here engineering and MBBS are the only career options you have. Humanities and arts are for someone else. This is where our elected official watch porn in the assembly, while their cronies are throwing chairs at each other for legislation that never sees the light of day. The biggest bridges, the tallest towers are all made of second quality material, standing tall more on hope and prayers than any real, measurable quality. This is where such a rant can possibly ban my blog if Kapil Sibal has his way. But its still my country and I love it.

I love it because I am awesome friends with at least 4 women who left their husbands and are happy on their own. I love it because I have friends who chose alternate careers and are fledgling stars  in various fields, I love it because even now in spite of reservation merit shines through and gets what it deserves, I love it because love marriages do happen and both the bride and groom survive, I love it because I have  beautiful nieces by blood and by ties that are stronger who will grow up to see a better India, I love it because my friendly police man takes old photocopies from our hostel for his son to study, I love it because in spite of all of this there are voices that raise concern, there are blogs that still stand strong, there are people who care.

Not Really a Rebel

The rock and roll scene gets to all..
While some succeed, most do fall..
Across the globe, they pop out from nowhere..
Telling the world how they dont care..

The fans go crazy at these guys..
Yuppy kids with jeans hanging off thighs..
A tattoo and a guitar is all you need..
That and lyrics no one can read..

Its a wacky crazy life I hear..
There’s wine, women and wealth to spare..
Those kisses that they throw in the air..
Make hearts flutter of many a maiden fair..

But all good things come to an end..
Most of them end up lonely around the bend..
In the solitude of their golden years they lie..
Often in pain wishing to just die..

I got the tattoo but no guitar..
I dont have a voice or the funky car..
Guess the rebel in me must be content..
That I can afford the next months rent..