on my life...

Now, as I was slicing onions for mamma’s chilly chicken, I was thinking. If my life were a river, I was thinking how it had meandered through. Some day back in school, I used to be weak at studies. That was way back in forth standard. I remember, I was new to this city and this new school I had joined made life worse. The traffic, the pollution made me feel nauseous everyday in the school bus. How we used to be packed, like sardines…sweating and stinking.
I had no friends, and to worsen it a big communication problem with the kids in the class.

One such fateful day, my English teacher had announced to the class that she would be taking a test the next day. I don’t know how, I never slept off in the class like I do now, but somehow I didn’t get to know of it. The next day, I saw kids tearing off sheets from their class work copies, to write the test. I didn’t know what was happening around me. I felt like crying, a test in the next few minutes, and was unaware of the damned chapter’s name. she took the test and I scored a 9 on 25. My eyes went blank. Felt as if, that was THE END!

How would I reveal this to mamma? What face would I show her? As I got down from the (zoo-like) school bus of ours, the first thing I blurted out was my humbling 9 on 25. And I had my set of excuses ready, “I didn’t know of the test”, “I don’t like the teacher”, I wantta change the school”, “next test I would try and score passable marks”. And I was taken off my feet with the way she reacted. She said it was alright. Though I don’t remember clearly, may be she had kissed me also…I forgot the ordeal I had undergone at school. Even today, my parents surprise me by the way they react to certain things I do. The way they feel contradicts my expectations.

And from then on, seven years in that school, and things changed for me. I grew so attached to it, that I shed endless streams of tears in my farewell. I would be away from school, and besides everything else, I wouldn’t be able see my crush. I had one in 8th standard. (When did you have yours?)Ohhw! Painful! My first love would go down the drain, and he wouldn’t even know…

And I have changed leaps and bound after that. From being a silent nine year old girl, who sat pushed to the corner, to the nineteen year old one, who gets to hear the maximum number of comments in the class. And to not having crushes anymore, I am an old woman now. I have outgrown so many things, in life.

At the end of it all( lemme remind you that I was chopping onions at the beginning) , I find out that I am chopping capsicum now. And that the onions had given me a mild, cold

with time...

I can see the wrinkles. No one else can. It’s not my face that has wrinkled, my mind has.

I will just give one instance. My eyes can sense less color these days. It’s rare that they find anything pleasing. Earlier I had typical feminine eyes, I was crazy about dresses. I was obsessed about them. And now, I walk through the malls like a zombie. I can’t make myself to like anything, anywhere.

Recently I went out shoe-shopping with papa. I went to some 20 odd shops. I liked none. From one shop to another, time refused to pass by. In and out of those air-conditioned rooms, into those sweaty, dusty lanes, I dragged my body along. Every half-hour passed by, more sluggishly than the previous one.

I was feeling more frustrated than usual. I wanted something. Anything that could please my eyes, my tongue. Gupchup wala!!! It was like a rescue ship for the marooned me. It was then that I felt relieved, the sour and hot as if enlivened my taste buds and all my senses along with it. I got into the last shop of the evening-got the first pair of shoes that could engage my eyes for more than 20 seconds. And got done with it. Ha!

of earhones and novels...

It’s a hot Saturday morning here. (Yeah, mornings are anything but hot. Every day I get up cursing the sun for having burnt up one half of my face. Changing sides and getting back to sleep doesn’t exactly work out. And of mornings and afternoons, the lesser I reveal, the better.)

Anyway, where was I? It’s a hot Saturday morning. And I come to realize that I have eaten up almost a month of the two and a half month summer vacation. And I know that my semester results are going to be out on Monday that is the day after tomorrow. I really really want to spend these last hours of my life in peace.

And lemme tell you what I am up to. I listen to FM all day long. FM, forgot2tellya, is the latest craze in my city. Wherever you go, you will find people tuning into the three radio stations that opened simultaneously a few weeks ago. So most of the time of the day, when I am home, with earphones plugged in, I would be peeping into a novel, and sitting right in front of the AC (as if it’s a TV or something. but AC is like GOD for me these days). And all the bloody time, I try think of anything but results.


Last night was a long one. I slept for the longest time in weeks, and gradually dissipated all my fatigue to the darkness. And now I realize why I didn’t get up for so long. Because I was dreaming of my love. Of my love having come to the place where I live. And he meeting the guy next door. I saw him first, and it took some time to sink in that it was him indeed. And of me freezing that moment. And then recognizing those same eyes, that hair standing like that of a porcupine, and of course those long legs and he almost towering over the rest of the world. All the same as I had imagined. The same thing that had been disturbing my thoughts relentlessly for years was now standing right in my front, eclipsing the rest of the world from my sight. And I stared into his eyes like a lost, innocent child who had found a parent after a day’s long search.

But then, my vision went blank. As he smiled at me. Indifferently. And then it occurred to me that he was smiling at the walls, so brashly whitewashed and all cracked up at places. Was he blind? And dumb? And deaf? He never felt the call of my love? I was a part of the crowd for him. A limb all that furniture in that room. It was then exactly that I froze. Everything in me froze. Even the tears in my eyes, waiting to ooze out any moment did. I went limp with helplessness. And got up.


Every time I think about the quota thing, I end up a little more frustrated. I belong to some upper caste. And somehow I am safe. I mean, at least I wouldn’t be unemployed, in near future. But there are many, who, have been underprivileged by birth, and have been born as NON- STs STs and now OBCs.

My tryst with quota began when I got admitted into engineering. I was frustrated with the branch I was allotted, in my college. May be it was parental pressure, peer pressure, or simply the want to get a better pay-package, by studying a (so called) better branch…and blah blah! And I saw, many people, who had ranks way below me, had been given better branches than mine. Just because, they had surnames that came under scheduled castes and tribes? Many of them belonged to the same city as I do. I had almost grown up with them. They went to the same tuitions that I went to. They stayed in houses like mine. Their parents owned cars. Then tell me how are they underprivileged? Did they deserve a quota?

I remember, I had cried my eyes out, for hours. On the phone, talking to mum, I didn’t even know how to vent my frustration. It was like biting my own pillow.

Even today, the poor of our country are sinking down the infinite abyss of poverty. Why? Because, we would never think about anything else that vote-bank hungry, ugly, cheap, sectarian politics. Politicians- shit on your face!

Whatever statistics say, whatever that slugging growth of GDP says, I don’t give a damn! And lastly, if I could, I would have dragged Arjun singh by his collar… ( heard me grinding my teeth?)

xpress urself

Heard about that Baroda university case, haven’t you?
Well! I have nothing much to say but about all that happened:
*it’s a shame to that university (came to know that it is nationally recognized for fine arts and blah blah!
*it’s a shame to Narendra Modi and his baseless hindutva…
*it’s a shame to that VC (fellow called Manoj Soni) who was made the VC at a mere age of 40( not that I’m saying you cannot have a young VC), by Modi-the great, just because he’d authored some bloody book: Third Space on the Gujarat carnage of 2002 with a staunch hindutva tilt.
*a shame to that unscrupulous group of VHP activists (that MOB to be precise!!!!) who claiming to be the moral brigade of a free n thinkin’ India vandalized the premises of an educational institution.
*a shame to the media which cashes on such incidents.

For god’s sake, can we leave the artist alone, and let him express himself. Who’s asking you to agree with him? At least, let him have his say…

confessions of a girl

Hello, i am also a human being. i can also have a crush. i can also get infatuated to people. aren't you? why is everyone taken aback, when i happen to talk about these things in the normal flow of the conversation i generally have with people.i can sense that hiccup and i am told" it's good to hear a girl tell that". Goodness gracious, where am i? Which century do peeople live in? Gawd!How i wish i could whistle like you guys do...

holiday blues

the semester exams are the hardest time in the entire semester. literally, i would find no time to breathe. As our holidays start the very day the sems get over, i knit plans from the blue, for my holidays. We guys get a two and a half months as summer vacation.{enviable naah!} this i know, is the last proper summer vacation of my life. next year, i would be training somewhere. I dunno where.and the next year, i would be stepping into the 'real' world. i would hopefully live a life of my own. forget that. So where was i?
Yeah, i was talking about the grand plans that i make for the holidays. i plan to read, read, anything and everythings.{last time i had almost done that, i was do damn drowned in fiction, that, it made me sick}...Khushwant Singh's obsession with *** {u know what} and Shobha De' s compassion for monotonous page 3, particularly responisble...
Anyways, i also plan to watch movies. But my dream of finding that dream- CD wallah in my locality, who keeps good CDs of my-type movies, will never materilaise...
i plan out long solitary rides, at some break neck speed in these highways. i plan to observe the way my city has grown. but, i just can't do that...mum's return time rules are more stringent than that of my hostel... :(
i plan evening walks but find no companion...ehhhhhwww!
i plan not to gain any holiday weight, i plan out yoga and stuff. plans, remain plans for ever, particularly these ones. Also going back with the same err... figure i came with, is beyond my domain. Mum'z fault again :P
i try not to lose my temper on my kid brother, who no longer is a kid :D, i think i have been able to do this...
what els? let's see what things look like, i l keep you guys well informed...take carezzzz