Wednesday, April 8, 2009

Expectations




Something or the other is always expected of us. By 'us' I refer to the entire human race. I was wondering, just when do people start expecting things from each other? I realised, it was from birth. Then I thought some more and realised, it is before we are even born. Let me elaborate..

When you are in your mother's womb, they expect you to pop out of your mother after 9months, if you dont come early that is. So, that is the first expectation. You have to be born. Then after taking birth, you are supposed to start crying with the first breath. I am neither a doctor nor a mother, nor do I remember what I did immediately after I was born, so I don't know what more is expected. So the second expectation is to cry. And so on. Then you are expected to laugh and cry appropriately, get excited in appropriate situations. Then you are supposed to start speaking. Say mumma, daddy, banana, Czechoslovakia and so on. Then or at the same time, you are supposed to show movement, crawl, sit, walk and so on.

Then comes the toddler stage. You are supposed to remember the names of the things pointed out to you by your parents\ relatives \ siblings. You are supposed to clear the admission interview in the school you are expected to get into. Most of the times you are expected to clear the interviews of ALL the schools in which your parents have applied. Then in school ,you are supposed to make friends, pass exams, be disciplined. This is of course expected of you for each and every exam, each and every course you undertake. You are expected to take part in some sport or any other extra curricular activity which generally is given less importance than academics even if you excel in that activity. You are expected to get a degree. Get a job. A certain age is quoted to you and you are told that that is your marriagable age. So by that age you are supposed to get married. You are supposed to provide your folks with grandchildren after a period of time.

You are supposed to support your parents in their old-age, you are supposed to retire eventually, raise you children properly, and in this cycle you start expecting things too. And this goes on.

Of course there are other random expectations like, you are expected to recover from any ailments or injuries you might have had. If you know how to cook, you are expected to cook etcetera. Not to mention expectations from sportspersons, actors, politicians, and all those who perform well in their fields.Where is the free will? Gone with the Goddamn wind? Oh and the worst(?) part, the things that you expect from yourself.

I wrote all this because I was overwhelmed with all the expectations, I wondered what happens if you defy all the expectations. I wondered when and if they would end. I concluded that they never end. I also concluded that you may be expected to do many things but you are also not expected to fulfill all those expectations. I am not saying expectations are a bad thing, no. I am just acknowledging the fact that they are everywhere and the fact that you can chose to ignore or fulfill those expectations. I suppose therein lies our free will. To fulfill or to ignore the expectations. That is what free will is all about. To ignore or no to ignore.

Saturday, March 14, 2009

The story continues

In the previous post, I had started a story. But I hadn't completed it. I wanted you to speculate what would happen for a while ( yeah I do assume that I have at least one reader ). But now I couldn't wait any longer to put and end to those speculations. Here is what happens :

'Hello there. I was wondering if you could teach me this dance...'
She couldn't believe she had actually said that to the stranger who was holding her in his arms and steering her around the dance floor. And man! was he a good teacher! They sure were getting plenty of curious stares. The shy girl who never danced was dancing with a total stranger and dancing as if she had been born to dance.
The stranger no longer seemed like a stranger to her. He put her at ease with his witty comments about wannabe mother-in-laws who come to the balls to find grooms for their daughters. Sort of like Almacs in the older times. Also, he listened to what she had to say. She could see it in his eyes. Everytime she made some amusing remark, his eyes would light up and his lips would quirk up. Was this a dream or what!

The stranger looked at the girl in his arms. She fit in his embrace so perfectly. She was not only charming but also aware about the current events not only in the country but around the world. He always did have a thing for spunky girls. This one was oozing spunk from her personality. Today sure was his lucky day.
The song got over. Immediately it was followed by a slow song. Then a bit faster cha-cha number. She lost count of the number of songs after a while. This evening, it was just him and his enchanting voice. She was a goner. So it was perfectly natural that she agreed when he suggested they go somewhere private. In fact she had been expecting it.
The stranger led her by the elbow to a garden outside the dance hall. The fresh air was like a messenger of the good times to follow. OR maybe he just felt that because it had been stifling inside the dance hall. Not that he noticed. Though the park was filled with some people , it wasn't as crowded as inside. Most of them were couples who wanted to get away from prying eyes. He needed to get to a place away from these people. After searching for about a quarter of an hour, he found a secluded bench beneath a banyan tree slightly hidden from view. She had been following him like a zombie. Now looking at her seated across him, he knew what she wanted. It was evident from her eyes. And her ragged breathing. And her heated skin when he touched her. Turned her around so that her back was touching his chest. He moved her hair to the side, and his hand made patterns in her neck. His other hand removed something from his coat pocket.
The stranger wrapped the guitar strings around her neck. He had already tightened it sufficiently enough before she realised what was happening and thought to put up a fight. He pulled the strings harder and harder until her fast breathing which had culminated into painful gasps slowed and finally stopped. He didn't use a rod to tighten the death trap like his Spanish ancestors but it was Ok. He would get plenty of chances later. Besides, he had liked this one. She had almost made him change his mind. But mind compelled him. His obssession had won. He wondered if Jack the Ripper or Jeffrey Dahmer had felt the same elation he was feeling right now.
She saw her life flashing before her eyes. And her mother's innumerable unheeded warnings about being wary of strangers with charming tongues. It was too late to tell her mother that she had been right. Too late for her mother. Too late for her. She felt the pain in her chest increasing as the noose tightened. And as she finally gave up, her last thought was , 'today was good.'

MORAL : Do not talk to charming, tall strangers in a crowded ballroom even though you dont have a dance partner. Dont talk to strangers. period. They maybe friends you have not met yet or killers you have avoided so far.


END

PS : This was sure as hell NOT Mills and Boonish. After two people telling me the previous one was, I had a reputation to protect.

Thursday, March 12, 2009

Three Word Wednesday in Wordpress

I just came across this thing called ' Three Word Wednesday ' on wordpress.com . Each week ( A wednesday obviously , in case the name wasn't obvious), the author posts three words and we have to write something using those three words. This week's three words are

Recluse
Temper
Cajole

I read what my friend had written on her blog and when she explained to me how the thing worked, I tried something on my own. Take a look:

She looked around for a dance partner seeing she was the only woman in the huge ballroom who didn't have a partner. Then as she was about to give up and sit out the Viennese waltz , her eyes fell on a tall, dark stranger.
What was strange about this stranger was that, instead of looking at the dancers waltzing on the dance floor, he was staring at her! For how long , she couldn't guess.
She had an uncanny ability to judge a person's character by looking at their body postures and hand gestures. Now, all of a sudden , she was the one doing the staring. The stranger looked right back at her without appearing abashed that he had been caught staring.




'Hmmmmm'. She thought as she contemplated the man who didn't seem to belong to the town she lived in. ' A businessman surely. Immeasurably rich, considering the rich material of his elegantly cut suit which he wore with some kind of disdain as if he was used to such luxuries and was merely bored by it. Surely he didn't socialise much seeing as he didn't have an escort either. So a recluse. Fully devoted to his work types. Good manners forced him to be polite with others but otherwise has a terrible temper...'
She went on assuming his traits, not knowing how she knew them, but knew from past experiences that she was right. She didn't know how, but she just knew.
'Right. Now all that remained was to cajole him to dance with her without apperaing to do so. It was risky, she admitted to herself , to talk to a stranger, but it was either this or stand like a fool while others danced to her favourite song.
Having come to a decision, she walked towards the stranger. All this while, he had been staring right back at her. As she approached him, he merely raised his eyebrows in question.
She said ' Hello..
END

PS : This thing just suddenly came to my mind. IMO, it appears too Mills and Boonish.



Tuesday, February 17, 2009

April Fool

Yeah. I know it's still mid February and all. Contrary to popular belief, I would like to make it clear that I am NOT suffering from post-Valentine's Day dementia. Nope. It's just that while I was bloghopping some days back, 60% of the blogs had a post on Valentine's Day!( just like me ). I am like " what the hell! 20 days later everyone will write about holi, then examinations, then april fool's day and so on! Why should I wait for April to arrive to let you know what I did last summer?" So well, another post on why you should be celebrating Thanksgiving everyday instead of on every 4th Thursday of November.. since you are not my brother\sister...

Day : 1st April ( well duh, April fool's day ! )

Time : Sometime during the day, when the sky was bright and clear. ( seriously, this was almost a year ago. Did you really expect me to remember the exact time? I mean I know it was 25 minutes and 32 seconds past 5pm, but the exact time? nah! )

Venue : Home

My brother had just returned from school after giving the first paper ( English ) of his annual exam. For the eternal laziness within me protesting against typing out brother everytime I have to mention him let's refer to him as Bap ( Brother After Paper in short )

Me : Hey! How was your paper? Hope it went well.

Bap : Yeah, it went well. What were you doing?

Me : What do you think? Watching aeroplanes. What else?

Bap : *sighs* As always.... Don't you get bored?

Me : Ha ! April Fool. I wasn't watching aeroplaes! I was watching the first officer in the plane make out with an airhostess. hehe. I fooled you!

Bap : MOMMAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA, * enter my name here * is bugging me. Giving me dirty details.....

Me : You know, you just made use of an alliteration! Perfect example!

* Bap glares at me which brings back my broken nose memories *

Me : What? It was your English paper afterall! I thought you were just trying to show of your skills in figures of speech. Oh my God! * covers mouth with hands *, I just complimented you! Thank me now!

* Bap runs away screaming MOMMAAAA again *

sigh... shit happens

=====================================

Day : NO

Night : April Fool's Nnght. ( Still first of April )

Time : exactly 325 minutes after the aforementioned scene after which my brother sulked for like 30 minutes, then studied for the next day's paper, then ate and was listening to songs on the disc-man, when this happened)

Venue : My bedroom which i share with my Brother Listening to Songs On the Disc-man.( BLSOD for the sake of abbreviations and more importantly convenience )


Me : Dude, I am sorry for today. But I had to fool you at least once. To keep up my reputation you know as the one who fools around even on April Fool's Day.

BLSOD : It's OK * enter nickname you will NEVER hear me utter *. No issues. I overreacted. After sulking for about 1800 seconds, I realised it was pretty cool actually and that I can use the same to fool my friends. Oh and yeah, thank you for complimenting my skills in figures of speech earlier.

* At this time, I am trying to control my laughter at remembering my skills in Hyperbole *

Me : Oh! Good then. All's well that ends well. Or something like that as someone said in the Harry Potter series. I think it was ALbus Percivial Wulfric Brian Dumbledore the First.

* After a few hundred seconds of deep pondering *

Me : Hey!, I am sleepy man. Stop listening to songs on your disc-man.

BLSOD : What the hell! Are you nuts or something? I am using headphones! How can that disturb you! You said you are sleepy right? Just switch off the lights and sleep in peace then. I won't.....What? NO. NOT AGAIN!!

* His outburst consisting of the last four words came after he saw the delightful smirk in my eye and an evil twinkle in my mouth. or vice versa. Whatever. *

Me : I have to say it. I can't resist. APRIL FOOL! HA HA HA. I fooled you again. I am not sleepy at all!

BLSOD : You suck! I am not talking to you till tomorrow morning.

* saying this he switches off the light and goes back to listening to songs. *

I thanked God fervently to have protected me from another broken nose and wondered how come my brother could hear me say anything at all while he was listening to songs on his disc man!

Phew! End.

Thursday, February 12, 2009

Enough Red Already!

I hate red colour! Red cars, Red clothes, Red shoes, Red watches, Red roses , Red balloons( especially of the heart shaped variety). I mean come on!! Why would you want to express your love to someone with red balloons ( of heart-shaped variety ) , red roses, T-shirts with big red hearts on them with 'I *heart* U ' written in bold letters just because everyone else is doing the same? Who in turn are doing this just because Archies and Hallmark are telling them to do that? jeez. Talk about blind followers! Better join the group ' A Consortium of Pub-going, Loose and Forward Women.' on facebook and send a pink chaddi to Mr. Muthalik of the prestigious Ram Sene. Best thing you can do this Love-Day. Oh and yeah, I came across this interesting e-mail about Valentine's Day, which I am copy pasting below. So, make sure you read the above line carefully before you decide to sue me for plagiarism. The e-mail goes this way ...




Valentine's Day- The Real Story


In spite of what you have been told by everyone, the truth is that
Valentine's Day originated hundreds of years ago, in India , and to top it
all, in the state of Gujarat !!!

It is a well known fact that Gujarati men, specially the Patels,
continually mistreat and disrespect their wives (Patelianis). One fine day,
it happened to be the 14th day of February, one brave Patelani, having had
enough "torture" by her husband, finally chose to rebel by beating him up
with a Velan (rolling pin to make chapattis).
Yes....the same Velan which she used daily, to make chapattis for him....
only this time, instead of the dough, it was the husband who was flattened.

This was a momentous occasion for all Gujarati women and a revolt soon
spread, like wild fire, with thousands of housewives beating up their
husbands with the Velan. There was an outburst of moaning "chapatti-ed"
husbands all over Anand and Amdavad.

The Patel men-folk quickly learnt their lesson and started to behave more
respectfully with their Patelanis.
Thereafter, on 14th February every year, the womenfolk of Gujarat would
beat up their husbands, to commemorate that eventful day - the wives having
the satisfaction of beating up their husbands with the Velan and the men
having
the supreme joy of submitting to the will of the women they loved.

Soon The Gujju men realised that in order to avoid this ordeal they need to
present gifts to their wives....they brought flowers and sweets. This is
how the tradition - Velan time - began.

As Gujarat fell under the influence of Western culture, the ritual soon
spread to Britain and many other Western countries, specifically,the catch
words 'Velan time' !!! In course of time, their foreign tongues, this got
anglisized to 'Velantime' and then to 'Valentine'. And thereafter, 14th of
February, came to be known as Valentine's Day and now you know the true
story of Valentine's day.

* E MAIL ENDS HERE *

PS : I found this original version better than the original version about St Valentine or whatever-his-name. And they should have stuck to the beating part. It sure would have been fun to wake up on V-day and see ladies beating the shit out of their husbands instead of the red turd we see these days. Today's generation * shakes head ruefully * And in a way I'm glad it's V-day on saturday. Gave me inspiration to write hate mail for Love-Day. Ha! Yeah and every fuckin' radio station is celebrating valentine's week. So everytime you surf through stations expecting Coldplay, Eminem and the likes all you get is either Enrique or Atif Aslam.
Phbbbt! At least leave the songs alone!

Saturday, February 7, 2009

Oh no! I am back. (*terminator voice*)

Hey there reader. I hope you are alive and well and had a great time in the 2-3 months I was away from my blog. No net. No inspiration. No inclination. No time. Except the first one, all my remaining excuses were lame and not admissible. But the first one was enough. :-|. In the 2 months that I wasn't netically ( umm you know, physically, mentally, netically... you get the drift. ) present, many exciting things happened to me. Opeth concert at iitm, college festival, cleaning of my room (:O yes it's true), Ghajini, Dev D songs and boredom ( but obviously ). Also I am going to write a separate blog post for each and every thing that I mentioned above. Yeah, poor you. Then again I may not. But any attempts on killing my net connection, hacking my blog won't be entertained or welcomed. So well to start on a light note, as I mentioned before, I was cleaning my room. And from some random corner in my room, I found English Balbharti, STD VI. So naturally, I flipped through it and rediscovered this awesome poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson. But before that, let me type it to you, that I am not much of a poem person. I like a very few poems and so I haven't tried my hand at poetry writing either. So, here's the poem before you kill me for stalling so much .. But hey, it's my blog!


HOME THEY BROUGHT

Home they brought her warrior dead:
She nor swooned, nor uttered cry:
All her maidens, watching, said,
'She must weep or she will die.'

Then they praised him, soft and low,
Called him worthy to be loved,
Truest friend and noblest foe;
Yet she neither spoke nor moved.

Stole a maiden from her place,
Lightly to the warrior stepped,
Took the face-cloth from the face;
Yet she neither moved nor wept.

Rose a nurse of ninety years,
Set his child upon her knee--
Like summer tempest came her tears--
'Sweet my child, I live for thee.'

- Alfred Lord Tennyson.

Wednesday, November 26, 2008

Its War Time!!!!!

ok. So I am updating my blog after more than a month. There were varous factors responsible for this > Exams, lack of inspiration, laziness. Now all of a sudden, none if the factors exist and I am free to blog. And I hate it. Last night provided the inspiration. Though never had I wished for such an eventuality to prompt me to start blogging again. Mumbai attacks!!!



Last night, I was watching the match at home, like almost everyone else who watches cricket. And the result was as predicted. India won. We won. We're leading the series 5-0 now by the way, for those who may not be aware. So then 15 - 20 minutes after the presentation ceremony and all, I heard this huge boom. And then I heard my mom complaining about firecrackers and what a nuisance they are. 5 minutes later, my neighbour comes to our place and asks " did you hear the bang?"
I said " yeah obviously. But why would they burst crackers half an hour after the match is won?? "

And my neighbour said " It wasn't a firecracker. It was a bomb. A taxi just exploded near that new bridge. It's all over the news. Terrorists are hiding in south Mumbai. Firing is on as we speak."

Now, if you must know, I stay very close to the Santacruz airport. And when we went on the terrace, we could actually see the smoke at the explosion site. One minute we are rejoicing yet another Indian victory and te next minute, BOOM, everything changes. A war starts in Mumbai.

While we were at the terrace, phones kept ringing, rumours a-plenty too, and every few minutes a vehicle with a siren would pass. Police vehicle, ambulance, fire-brigade or minister's vehicle, I know not. The patch of highway near our place was blocked and vehicles kept taking a U-turn and cutting back from where they had come. And the news kept coming in. Along with the blast near the airport, there was firing at Hotels Taj and Oberoi, CST terminus and as if that wasn't bad enough there was firing at the Cama Hospital too. ( and I didn't even know about it's existence till yesterday ! ). When I went to sleep, watching the news, they said firing was still on and commando operation had been started at Taj. 2 people had been killed in the blast near the airport and several injured and that all the flight take-offs had been cancelled.

Today morning when I read the newspaper, it said 78 people were killed and over 900 were injured. All this happened after mindnight!! The attack started from Gateway of India ( which sparked rumours that the explosives had come from the sea) and then moved towards CST. All the important places were hit. Nariman point, Metro Adlabs, Colaba, Crawford market, Wadi Bunder and GT hospital too. And on BBC it was reported that 40 people were taken hostages. And 3 officers died on duty : Hemant Karkare of the ATS, encounter specialist Vijay Salaskar ( and i had actually heard of these two for a change!) and addl commissioner Ashok Kamte. RIP, you three. You died cleaning the scum.



So that was the factual part. After each terrorist attack in other cities of India, focus would shift to Mumbai, and after 2-3 days of tight security and high alert, things would go back to the previous lax ways . This is what happened yesterday. One minute you are having dinner, watching TV, or roaming outdoors.. and next ... terror strikes. And what was the purpose of those checks at the railway stations?? When it was required , could they stop the terrorists from entering with AK-47s and hand grenades and start firing? NO. Same at the malls. Metro Adlabs. The security people look as if they are endowing us a great favour by checking our belongings. And at one mall, I dont remember which, I don't even think the metal detectors work because I had a swiss-knife in my pocket and they didn't even realise that. Could they really have not considered the possibility that the terrorists may open fire? Do they really dismiss the terrorists as cowards? That is just plain - bullshit. Just a lame excuse to hide your inefficiency. Where are Shiv Sena and MNS workers right now? what are they doing? Don't they want the marathi manoos to be safe now? Where are the parties standing for elections next year? Next year, If you are going to vote, or if any candidate asks you for vote during those speeches ( if you care to go to one), ask them what they were doing during the terror-attacks in Mumbai and other cities. And what their party had done to help that the other party hadn't to make you vote for that particular candidate. According to me, this tete-a-tete combat is a good opportunity to check our ability against theirs. And we shouldn't be proud. Three senior officers dead and we could manage to kill only two of them yet. And all of them are youngsters! Though I think , we should stop judging their abilities according to their ages. And I don't care if the firing goes on for 3 more days as long as these scum are killed or captured. Total elimination is the word. it is about time these buggers are made to realise that one can only punch a tin box so many times. Then it hardens and hurts anyone who tries to punch it. And don't complain about the bandh if there is one, enjoy the time with your family and friends.

Also this made me wonder, what we as the commoners do for the city? Income tax? Nah. That goes to the national government. Loving the city is not really enough. You need to fight for it too. Donate blood at a hospital nearby to help the injured. Help in any way you can. Otherwise you don't have a right to point a finger at anyone. This is your city. It is your responsibilty to take see to it that it is free from mother-fucking terrotists whose only aim is to gain attention of the masses. They'll hit you as long as you endure it. ABOUT TIME WE STOPPED!!! To pee is human, then it shouldn't be the divine to flush; you pee, you flush it off.

PS : I just realised it was "a wednesday" yesterday and i hope we kill the cunts just like in the movie. I may have used a profanity or two in the post, but I don't care. Am really pissed off right now.