Monday, September 27, 2010
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
You know how to tickle my heart
Making me smile silly smiles again
You know how to make me blush
Making my face red and even my ears warm
That until now I didn't know love could explode behind the ears
You know how to keep a cool face
But I can still smell the jealousy
And that’s what makes you cute
I can no longer organise my feelings
Because you have thrown them astray
My heart quakes
Saturday, August 28, 2010
Honestly, if we weren’t sisters then I don’t think we could be friends. We would not be able to connect on a lot of levels – fashion, music, opinions, career, etc. I don’t remember us ever having a sisterly or even a girly one-on-one talk about crushes, heartbreaks, dreams, doubts or Brad Pitt. And how can two healthy females not talk about him! There has to be something wrong between us for that to happen. And there is. We still sleep on the same bed but we know nothing about each other's life. From the serious things like 'what do you want to do in life' to the inane things like 'when was your last shoe purchase", we never REALLY talk.
Of course, we do have our moments but I want more. I want everyday to be a giggly, clothes-borrowing, secret-telling, dream-sharing event. After all you can't just get a sister over the counter. I really want to communicate and know more than just her blood type, birthday and menstrual cycle. I don’t only want to be a sister but I also want to be a friend. So, I guess as the older sister I have to take the first few steps.
Monday, August 23, 2010
The only one-of-its-kind in the world and that's because I stitched him up for my mom. He is kinda ugly and asymmetrical and rough around the edges (I suck at stitching). But therein lies his charm. He is cute because of his abnormality and eclecticist - part soap dish, part cotton, part cloth. I hope you will love him like my mom has grown to after getting over her initial fits of laughter.
Tuesday, August 03, 2010
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Monday, June 07, 2010
Yesterday's incident made me so helpless. I knew what that man was trying to do as he tried to corner me, touch me and repeatedly tried to lure me back into the dark corners of his shop, but I was so shocked that all I could do was shout at him and warn him. Now I wish I had physically injured him. Actually I wish I had castrated him.
No matter how long I have lived here in Delhi and have learned ways to avoid and ignore such abuses, I am still not immune to them. Over the last eight years I have had to become more vocal and aggressive while dealing with men, but inside I still get scared.
I never call an electrician or plumber when I am home alone. I never take calls from unknown numbers. I never get friendly with male colleagues until I know for sure that they are nice, decent guys. I carry a pepper spray in my bag. I have learned a few self defense moves. But no matter what or how many precautions I take, I can never forget that I am still a woman and I can never ever let my guard down. Or else what happened yesterday might happen. And the next time I might not be so lucky like I have been in the past.
Tuesday, June 01, 2010
The passengers sitting inside the cars are ordinary looking middle-aged men with methodical eyes. They wear starched pressed suits with white shirts and are lost in their own thoughts. They know that they have gone over the facts and figures countless of times, but don't want to leave anything to chance. As the Manjunatheswara temple comes into view, the men sit up and adjust themselves. The cars stop outside the temple gate and the men step out. The temple's grand wall and intricate designs guard and exalt Lord Manjunatha.
The men cross the threshold and make their way across the enormous courtyard seeking the golden lingam. Whispering prayers and footsteps of devotees enhance the serenity of this sacred place. It is a world that defies all logic and laws of what they, as scientists, have adhered to for so many years. Formulas and axioms make sense to them but they also acknowledge a force beyond their scientific comprehensions.
The men take off their shoes and walk up the step toward the priests who are waving incense sticks, chanting and expecting them. The sounds of bells resound with the faith of the devotees. With bowed heads, pressed hands and bare feet, the scientists approach the saffron cladded men, who will sanctify their venture. They solemnly place their offering at the foot of the Lord Manjunatheswara's statue, seeking his divine blessings. With a miniature model of a satellite in its rightful place, the rites begin.
The scientists adhere to age-old traditions and exchange their formal attires for simplicity by removing excess layers of clothes. Thousands of kilometres away, men in a flight control room put on their earphones and talk into their microphones. Men in two different worlds do their own rituals to launch a satellite into space - some with their technology and some with their prayers.
As the priests start the puja and chant in their trance-like baritone voices, simultaneously crisp voices crackle in the air. Ancient vedic text and scientific jargons harmonise in a chorus. Sterilised voices repeat cryptic codes of aerospace. The puja intensifies its pace and a static voice commands a countdown. When the countdown nears to an end, the head priest pours ghee over the ceremonial fire, provoking red, blue and white flames into the heavens. The blaze then changes into an inferno of a rocket as it propels upward like a shooting star. As it goes further up and slowly disappears into the stratosphere, the men fold and raise their hands to a pranam to the celestial being who blessed their venture.
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Anyway, what I wanted to tell you is about the dinner I made last night. Like all the meals that I cook, I wanted to cook something that was quick and effortless. So, I grabbed the soup packet and some vegetables - beetroot, cabbage and carrots. Chop, chop, snip, snip, stir, stir, simmer, simmer. I went away to freshen up and when I came back after a few minutes, I was shocked to see this.
For a minute I thought a lizard had fallen inside and died, spilling its blood in my dinner. But luckily the reason was not as gruesome as it indicated. It was the beetroot! Phew.
This has to be one of the most disgusting and unappetising meal ever prepared. No sane person would eat this…except me. Hahahah! I ate two bowls of it but without really looking at it. It really wasn't bad once you got past the look of it. :-P
Thursday, March 11, 2010
My smile disappeared. My twisted lips uttered “eh”. Then my words finally came out. “I hate it when people call us feminists. Just because we want basic rights, don’t want to be harassed by men and want a voice, how does it make us feminists? Why am I a feminist?”
So he said, “No, I meant that you guys are independent and you know…sorry I didn’t mean it that way.” Poor chap, I didn’t mean to sound angry. I was honestly more curious but my mannerism after being in Delhi for more than eight years (will talk about it some other time) is brusque. Anyway, I did say thanks to him for the sweet gesture.
This started a conversation around the table over coffee and cigarettes. Luckily for us, we are mostly surrounded by men who respect women and supported the Women’s Reservation Bill but there were still some skepticism about it. Like will the women representatives be capable? What if it’s just nominal power? Will they really work for the betterment of the society? Why does India need reservation quotas? If women think they are equal then why do they need special treatment?
I think it is an historic moment. It still needs to be approved in the Lok Sabha and the implementation is going to be a tough task but it’s a start. There are risks involved but its potentiality cannot be ignored. And yes, we needed this 108th constitutional amendment not only as a political and economical leverage but also more importantly, as a social one. We need this leverage for equality because we are regarded as innately inferior. It’s a necessity and not a special treatment because we still live in a world that is, sadly, unfair to women and girls. Millions of women across the country find themselves excluded from opportunities, vulnerable to exploitation and denied recognition. But it cannot be denied that these same neglected women are the ones who form the backbone of the informal sectors, households and society.
So, whatever misgivings there are about this bill, the biggest misgiving is the failure of politicians and people to realise and acknowledge a woman’s potential.
Monday, March 08, 2010
I don’t have the patience to bear with you.
To hear you out.
I am sick of it all.
I want to get far away from all this.
I just want to be left alone.
My loneliness comes from you.
Your absence makes me aware when I am left alone.
If I go far away from you then I won’t feel this emptiness.
Give me back my solitude.
Leave me alone.
Friday, March 05, 2010
Last night I went for the India vs. Spain hockey match. And yes, India lost 5-2. But that is not the point. What got me so sad and mad was how the crowd was so easily discouraged and discouraging. There were still a few minutes left before the game ended and there was no way India could catch up unless something miraculous happened like the ghost of past hockey legends possessing the bodies of the Indian hockey players and scoring 4 goals in less than three minutes. The stadium grew quieter and people started leaving even before the game ended. That must have been so painful to the players who were playing so hard. They might not have been in their best form but they did go into the field to give their all and win. Having played sports in school, I know that the worst thing you can do to a team is to abandon them. It is the most discouraging feeling when you see your supporters leaving the game. No matter what, supporting till the end can really make a difference. Even when you lose you don’t feel like you lost everything. So, there I was in the stadium screaming my lungs out and not giving a damn about people staring at me. India Hockey Team hwaiting!!
Thursday, February 25, 2010
I just realised that coffee is very expensive. It really is. I even have an equation to prove it to you. Yes, mathematically.
Work + Work + More work + Late nights – Sleep + Difficult clients x Tight deadlines – Friends – Family + Angry Boss x Stress + Pimples x PMS - Raise = Coffee
* Drinking my 12th cup of coffee at work *