Let's talk

A wife, recently, pulled her husband’s sexual orientation out in the open. It made headlines and more so, made us dread pink. In a country, where marriages aren’t anymore for ever, another marriage failed for a reason that ain’t completely unknown.
Women and men both have suffered in silence in the past too but never before headlines were made out of it. What happens between a husband and wife in bed was entirely personal! Though you can wash your dirty linens in public but you can’t talk about love even in private. The wife in this case suffered and so did the husband. Who suffered most, well, that isn’t the biggest question. Question is why suffer when it could have been completely sorted by opening-up? Pardon me, if two strangers do strip and get intimate when they spend the first night after marriage, what is the big deal about talking?
Agreed, homosexuality isn’t a good topic but let it not be nice if it can save lives from misery and failure. Isn’t it better to speak up rather than come up with excuses all your life?
• I’ve a bad headache/tired
• I am so stressed with work
• I need some time to relax
• I am the shy types give me more time
And aggravates to:
• You’re always horny and just need one thing from me
• You aren’t attractive enough
• You should have married somebody else
What’s worse is that you just kill the person’s confidence to start all over. Fine, our society (include parents too) can’t take your truth but the truth can be shared with the person who’s going to be living with it.
Your life is yours and you’re free to live the way you want till it doesn’t involve another life. Speak up because talking always help. If you can’t talk to all atleast try talking to the person affected most.


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Happy Freedom!

Nation celebrated its Independence Day with much gusto. Our Prime Minister broke all barriers to meet and greet the commoners. We are all brimming with hope. Finally, a man who would change the destiny of India.
One day holiday marked to celebrate our freedom. Maybe, the country has gained freedom from the British rule but are we really free? Free to be what we want. Free to live life, the way we wanted. Think again, if you’re answer is ‘yes’.
We are a country of disparities. Where the rich can touch the sky while the poor are struggling for a foothold! The rich has opened the global market and players are competing ruthlessly to catch its attention. The poor are committing suicide in an attempt to give their near ones a better life. The haves have too much yet they don’t share. The have-nots have nothing, yet, they have to share.
We are free. But our women are still not free to go for walk, post evening. Their homes are one of the most unsafe places because most of the perpetrators are people they have well-known. A woman is a woman in my country and crime doesn’t make any distinction between a baby of seven months or an eighty plus woman. Both face rape and other inhuman atrocities.
We are independent but still dependent on the age-old beliefs of finding a family heir who necessarily has to be a son. So kill daughters till you have an heir to carry the legacy of your kinship. Sell daughters to dowry to get rid of them through marriage. Torture the daughters-in-law for dowry even if you have to burn them alive. A woman isn’t of any use till she bears a male child and gives you enough to add to your financial stature.
My leaders have big plans. Yet all plans fall flat in crisis. Be it the roads choking with sewage water in monsoon, or the open deadly drains beaming with diseases. Sadly, most plans live and die in paper.
Opportunities are opening in our country. But why do some of the greatest brains go outside to explore new opportunities? India is the birthplace of some of the greatest but to become great these talents have to move elsewhere.
Our country is free for 68 years now. Isn't it too much to ask from one chosen person to change scheme of things until we all come together at our own level to do something that could change? An independent India where freedom isn’t the territory of few. An India where every Indian is made to feel proud.


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A lesson no less

He wasn’t dressed for any occasion. The t-shirt was worn out while the slipper was too tired walking and desperately wanted to rest (in one piece). His body odour was everything else than pleasant. You wouldn’t like the idea of having him sit next to you. Who would bear to hold one’s breath all through the journey for fear of fainting in the sweaty smell of a day’s long job?
The place occupied next to him was a complete contrast. The dude was smart, dressed to the tee and had the smell of an expensive deodorant all over him. Even the footwear was making a strong statement of a big brand. The guy was oblivious to the crowd all around, busily glued to his gadget and often flashing few smiles on his own, making the ordeal a little more bearable for the fellow women onlookers.
Definitely the clear portrayal of the evident-class divides in the society where one has everything while the other struggles for even basic things.
Then came a station where again an army of people got into the metro and you can’t blame them because that was the office rush. The already jam-packed cabin was running short of space and with the new pool of people, not an inch was left. Women were sandwiched and most men weren’t doing it on purpose. They had no space to even place their foot safely. Hence, bodies were touching each other and women were hurling abuses under their breath.
Braving the mammoth crowd, an elderly woman made her way up to the two youths. The dude looked at her and avoided an eye-contact trying his level best to act busy toying with his expensive buy.
The old lady was carrying a handbag and a bag. You could see that she was struggling and on her way to lose the battle. The seats weren’t reserved for ladies and neither did it have a sign. So she couldn’t order the men to vacant their seat. But her looks did the talking. She needed a seat desperately. Yet, the world is brutal and our hearts rarely melt. At the end of a busy schedule, you don’t have a heart to gift a space, that too to a wrinkled face. Had it been a young or pretty face, good Samaritans would pour in to save the damsel in distress. Here that wasn’t the case and so who cares?
Then suddenly my perception changed. The guy with not much of a social stature to talk of, got off and gave his seat to the old lady. And he did it even without being asked. He voluntarily offered his seat and just said, “Aunty, you sit down.”
A little gesture spoke a lot about him. That particular gesture broke all social norms and he became a part of what we call “the civilised lot”.
That day, he taught me a big lesson “never judge anyone with the way the person looks”. Thanks for opening my eyes.


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Believe it or not

I work in a make-believe world where nothing is the same to what it actually offers. Before you think that I am evil, of course not, but what to do? After all we all have bills to live with and you need to stick to something that pays for it. And I do write with a lot of guilt, hoping nobody takes me seriously. Even I don’t take advertising words seriously. They are meant to be smart, sassy yet far from facts.
The other day when I boarded the auto, the sticker line wasn’t even close to being intelligent. It was in Hindi and meant something like “The driver of this vehicle wouldn’t disrespect women neither would allow someone to do so”.
I automatically thought, another claim which means nothing looking at the rising crime statistics. I got into the auto and told myself life is all about taking risks. Why fear the unknown don’t I have enough shady briefs to work upon?
The journey began as usual, I was immersed in Sufi Music and too busy to bother about the traffic. That’s the most sensible thing I have learnt while living in this busy capital of India. Worrying doesn’t help because there is nothing you can do other than invite the Blood Pressure to shoot up.
Just then I noticed it. Every time my auto moved, a bike moved with its rowdy rider who was too busy leering at me. Now that isn’t unusual on the streets of my busy city. But what happened next, wasn’t so common. My auto-driver would squeeze in some corner space and get me away from the uncomfortable situation. The bike would follow soon and again my driver would quietly move to hide me within a safe distance. Constantly checking the location of the biker from his rear-view mirror and making that extra effort to duck me to safety. Amazing was fact that he was doing all this without even advertising his heroism. Very gradual and not trying to be James Bond on a mission to rescue a damsel in distress. How different from the world I work and live in!
The bike followed me long and eventually gave up. I wasn’t shaken up because my not-so-educated driver made it a point to not make me feel threatened. Finally, I reached my destination and paid him. I wanted to thank him but even before I could, he honked and left. It came so naturally to him that he wasn’t expecting a “Thank You”.
First time in my life, I felt that Advertising got really, real. Or maybe the guy made every word in the copy of the sticker come true.


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A love story went wrong

“But you said you love me?” she said.
He clarified, “Ya, but that was some two days back.”
She questioned, “And today you don’t love me?”
He said, “See, change is the law of nature. Day becomes night and so. You change your clothes. You change your food etc.”
She looked into the eye, “What do you mean? Come clear.”
He answered without looking, “I loved you two days back. And two days is a long time. Now I don’t feel the same.”
She was shocked, “Whaaat? But I brought all my stuff to live with you and I have nowhere else to go.”
He was furious, “Did you ask me before doing all this?”
She was confused now because she never thought that things can change so much within 48 hours. And here she was feeling just the same for a very long time.
She was lost in a plethora of emotions. Too confused to know whether she should laugh or cry. Lost in her own thoughts, she could feel his arm shaking her and asking, “Now, where do you want to go? Tell, me and I can drop you.”
“But I want to stay with you, why anywhere else?” she responded. He was equally adamant that she has to leave. He kept insisting that he doesn’t want to stay with her. Moreover, it is his life and he has every right to decide what he wants.
“Leave me alone,” he shouted. He has a life. He wants to be with other women and has no place for this particular woman, someone he knew too long.
“Come on, isn’t spending the last 25 years with her enough?” he justified.
After all a man doesn’t need his mother so what if a boy does. He is a man now and not a ‘mama’s boy’ anymore. He drove her to an old-age home he knew and never looked back.
Since then she kept waiting for him. A son whom she conceived with great difficulty and sacrificed three daughters before him in her womb. She produced him to insure her old age because that’s the way this system works. Mothers take care of son till they are old and the role-reversal when mothers get old. How can you expect anything from daughters? After all daughters get married and move to other families. She too was a daughter, long time back. Her parents married her off and neither did they or she looked back, ever since.
“Why go through so much trouble to have a son?” she kept asking herself. Still she kept hoping that he would come back, one day.
He didn’t prove her wrong. He did come to see the end of her lifeless body, long after she was gone.


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Fear from unknown

One day it finally happened. He died and went away, never to return. Nobody missed him but was scared of his return from the unknown. He had warned his sons of the consequences of not following the death rituals to the tee. The sons too had the right intention but his going was under hostile circumstances. It was past midnight when he took the last breath and the rains were pouring in heavily as if to announce their reluctance in having him up above the sky. Star, he could never reach courtesy his karmas and he was as unwelcomed in heaven as on earth. His family didn’t want him and now the heavens were pronouncing their resistance on his arrival. Still when you die you need to go far without any control on the destination, so the man had no choice. His sons tried to give him a traditional goodbye but weather undid their plans.
Not that the sons shared a special bond with Him or were grieving about the loss. Just the fear of His return made them take some effort. They had lived enough with his tantrums and were now hoping to be left alone. A tyrant in his time, He ensured that life around him would be anything but miserable. He was a man of his own principles and his way or the highway was a written law. The sons listened to him because he had lots of money to bail them out of their miseries. During his lifetime and till his last, He made life difficult for them. Till their mother was alive, she bored the brunt and gave him top rated service because Indian wives are taught to suffer (in silence). Once she was gone they were praying for him to depart. The wait was long and finally He was gone.
Gone away but still every moment they lived in fear. Fear couldn’t get the best out them and they panicked over simplest of things around. If the crow cawed during lunch, they would look at each other. “Is he back?” were the unspoken question and still they were so paralyzed by fear that they couldn’t step out to shoo it off. Days were still better. Nights were nightmares with the feeling of being followed by the dead man. They kept the lights on all the time and were accompanied by escorts to meet nature’s call. That wasn’t enough for them and they kept looking back to double check. Sleepless and tired they just wanted to carry on and enjoy the rich man’s leftovers. But fear was being the spoilt sport.
On an eventless evening, a knock left them moved. Their wives had gone out to splurge on the father-in-law’s wealth. So the brothers were all alone to answer the call. The older ordered the younger to open the door. Reluctantly, the younger brother had to go, first time in ten days on his own. He went and never returned.
The older kept calling, “Who is it? Why aren’t you answering?” No response from the front and silence made him restless. So he went out to check. He could make out his brother lying on the floor even before he reached. Shocked he walked ahead to find his answer. Then he saw. A man carrying his father’s face and built was standing out begging, “Can you please give me something to eat, son? Haven’t eaten in two days.” And the last thing the elder brother could feel was the floor beneath him shaking furiously like an earthquake.


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New pangs

“New shoes, huh? Niceee lady!” most noticed and didn’t take a minute to shower their compliments. Point taken but I wasn’t happy.
Because the new ones were biting me real bad. So much so that I had to seek the protection of good old bandage. I suddenly realised that everything new does come with its own share of discomfort.

Say for instance,
• Remember the first teeth that came and the troubles you inflicted back home. Maybe you were too young to remember but you’re parents can never forget the teething troubles
• New school and the ‘take me home’ kind of feeling
• New break-up and ‘let’s kill all couples around’ feeling
• New car and ‘protect the virginity’ responsibility
• New relationship and ‘does he like me’ psychometric tests
• New house and ‘easy EMI’s’ which is nothing but easy
• New style but ‘old me’ syndrome
• New clients but ‘poor me’
• New kid and sleepless nights
• New recipes but ‘I like my daal-rice’ statements
• New year but ‘same old salary’ syndrome

I keep complaining about the old and look forward to the new. But new can be painful, some times. Then the comfort of the old feels so good. Like right now, I so very badly want to get rid of the new footwear and step into my old bedroom slippers. So what if it desperately needs to retire but it is harmless and doesn’t bite my comfort away.


Pic Courtesy: Google Images