aMen!

Last week I witnessed something .

I witnessed one of the most vibrant moving canvasses in front of my eyes. I was at Varanasi with friends.No I hadn’t seen Arjun Rampal but something as soothing to my eyes. We  have all heard about the grandeur of the Ganges aarti by the ghats of Varanasi.Here is something I saw in addition to the spectacular beauty of the Arti that to my astonishment doesn’t turn up in a google search and finds no mention in any blog either.

My friend very casually mentioned about the last visit where she has seen handsome(read:hot) pundits by the ghats performing the aarti. Of course I hadn’t paid much attention to her words as I was all soaked up in spirituality.Moreover you wont imagine good looking men all queued up at a ghat in Varanasi.

But Lo and Behold! As soon as our boats perched at the Ganga water front at the famous Dashashwamedh Ghat I saw something I had never seen before. The air chanted of cymbals and smelled of marigold.The bell chimes cast a spell as the entire audience was gazing wholeheartedly at the aarti being done in front of us.

As for me the artist in me was aroused. It was a dark cold night. The ghats were ancestral.The scene in front me was iridescent with handsome men so neatly wrapped in silk dhoti and colourful kurta that accentuated their slim waist and masculine physique.Initially I was hesitant in appreciating the pulchritude of the sight before my eyes for these men were performing a holy service.Later as the event progressed I realised that the entire exercise before our eyes was indeed a performing art . Art for me is solely a matter of appreciation and reverence. As these pundits took the heavy lamps in their hands that only flaunted their toned biceps and arms,I couldn’t help but draw even more closely towards them to have a look.I was awestruck at the finesse in their wrists which turned the incense sticks with such grace.It was divine to see them pour the holy ganga jal around their feet in a semi circle so in sync . It was exalting to see their hands wave the fluffy wand in the air right and left.They enthralled  the entire audience by holding  those heavy brass lamps and making  circular flights of fire in the air.

 It was a brilliantly choreographed show that ended in the pundits blowing the conchs.We i.e my friend and I stood right in front of them with our backs facing the Ganges and looked at them in a trance. The Pundits noticed us too,continuously gazing at them. We were unabashed in our admiration.

Connoisseurs of male handsomeness or Adam teasers were we?

I surely had to pass on this information to my female friends for them to witness this “handsome” show.

   And today as I recount that incident the feminist in me thinks about why is there no concept of adam teasing in retribution to whatever keeps happening on the streets with every single girl of the country.Had there been pretty ladies doing the sandhya aarti I am sure the entire country would have known,with thousands of pictures and videos of youtube just like any other beauty contest. Why is it that her beauty and body is not respected for its rock like strength that braves monthly cycles to give birth to an entire generation but is looked at with lascivious eyes as an object for sexual pleasure. Why do so many male eyes  probe every single part of her body and make her feel visually raped?Why is it that four men together have to pounce on her as if she were a football?

Why is it that she has to fight for her life for no fault of hers ?How does this kind of libido exhibit in these rapists and eve teasers? Just because  she wanted to come to a place where she could study and happened to travel in a public transport because her parents were extremely poor. Why do I constantly write about such issues?

Why is it that the face of rapists is always that of a man?

What is wrong with this percentage of guys?

Yes , I being  a feminist I worry for the future of my gender.More importantly being an Indian I am worried about the future of my country,for we all know that a country cannot progress without equal opportunity given to 50% of the population.We feminists are often sneered for vociferously crying for our rights. We are undeterred because at least we have a sense of purpose.We are atleast fighting for a cause.Being a feminist does not mean being against men but being against men who are against a woman’s demand of social equality.

I appeal to the brothers,fathers and husbands of the country to join our struggle!You cannot exist without us.

Chuck Review

 This goes to you my love,from my core
 You still have a lot in store    
Chuck all those reviews that define you a loser   
Because we know that you are more than just a poser;
 You don’t know how much in love with you I have been;
 If I remember I must have been in class 9 in my teen  
When I first saw you , you were clad in a white suit and looked like a clown to me    
Until I paused and gave that second look to see that Adonis like face of thee;
 It was attraction at first or crush as some say
 Never did they think the insanity for 11 years will stay    
Pensive in Moksha,while your role in Aankhen was intense    
Villainous in Vaada while Rock On started trends
 My friends say I overdo it and that I look  crazy,
 Hardly do I care about whatever people should see  
Because even when I saw you recently in your movie  
Sporting that moustache,you were no different to me.
 What makes my heart thump,I want to know.
 Your grave baritone voice,or your raw machismo   
What makes my eyes fixed onto you?    
That chiselled torso,or those succulent biceps so true
 What makes me so happy when I see you on screen
 Is it that handsome jawline or your thick hair’s sheen.    
What people don’t know how wide your  heart spans,    
The love for your family, friends and fans
 Someday I hope you invite me to your exclusive pub
 How wisely you have named it LAP , so that people hub    
I am  happy to tell you that I am ALIVE as your perfume is    
Till the day I meet you and that is a promise
 Maybe you if you get to read this poem
 You may call me and I sure will come  
Happy Birthday I will say and will never go away!

MANUFACTURING WOES

India needs a boom in manufacturing to further strengthen its economy.But ask me what that really means.It means 6 days of work. It means no holiday on Easter,Eid or Holi.Yes you will have to explain your parents back home that there are no official holidays apart from the National ones bestowed to you.

  A friend of mine once drew parallels an interesting parallel at her site of Steel mill commissioning. With so many workers in helmets and PPE(personal protection equipments) working 24 hours (in shifts), and with Germans speaking on their walkie talkies guiding and consulting on technology  the entire scene actually looks like that of World War 2. Most of  us working in the manufacturing sector have no idea about  the 5 day a week  and 8 hours a day work model.After having had to go to office even on a Sunday today,here I pour out what a typically lucky Sunday means to us .Us here refers to the brotherhood (with an iota of sisters joining the fray) working at the shopfloor.

 While our friends are shaking a leg at the disco and tweeting “Thank God It is a Friday” We don’t even know what that means.We don’t know why Allen Solly launched that “Friday Dressing” collection. We keep counting our days at work dreaming only about what to do on a Sunday.

    So every Saturday will be a typical day when you would like to leave the plant early. And pronto! Just as you would be  online booking your tickets for the night movie show,or deciding which brand of "daaru" to buy for the night out,you will come to know of a breakdown in the shopfloor.That is how a weekend starts.Heavy hearted you would return home back at 9pm,barely managing to take your family or friends out for dinner.In case you are lucky you will find a table.In most of the cases all the hotels are infested with hungry folks who unlike you have managed to get a table because they didn’t have to face a breakdown in the line. That Saturday night dinner seems to be an ambrosia.You go back home and promise not to wake up early the next day until you are woken up by your housemaid or some vendor selling rugs or broomsticks.

You will curse them! By the time you realise you need a haircut or visit the parlour/saloon it is already 11 am on Sunday. The spirit starts leaving your soul when you decide to take a bath but realise that there  is  a whole lot of  laundry to do. By the time you have your brunch you realise you just have  some 8 hours left to your weekend and your afternoon nap beckons you. After you break your afternoon siesta you decide to stock up food for the rest of the weekend.You head to the market grab knick knacks, catch a movie ,shop , club around a little and bump into your colleagues who are doing pretty much the same.The Sunday dinner unlike the Saturday dinner is more sombre and more hopeless.You don’t enjoy it that much because you see your watch and feel there is not much time left for the Monday morning’s blue sun to rise. The evenings and the nights are a sweet torture .You hate to tell yourself that the day is about to end.You blurt that for the umpteenth time  “Gosh! I didn’t even come to know how the Sunday passed away” You are reminded of the drudgery of existence.You hate to goto bed and stay up watching the TV or facebooking.On facebook you see pictures of your friends picnicking and camping around all the places in globe and the Album says “ Weekend Getaway” . With a heavy heart you go off to bed and the timer is on; ticking for the next Saturday.

P.S. Salute to the blue collar workers who play such an important role in nation building enduring physical and emotional hardships.

GOLD IN KARATE

As the nation was exulting in the victory of Saina Nehwal,I was sitting with another female friend at a CCD (no pub ,no discotheque) in the heart of city and discussing India’s medal tally at around 7 pm(not late at night). I would mention we were both in “decent,sleeved” kurtas and jeans. Meanwhile waiting for another friend to return from office and to join us at CCD. Just when the other friend entered CCD and removed her wind cheater(as it was raining outside).

 Some guy inside CCD commented out loud “What should I do when a girl is taking off her jacket?”

It took a moment for us to understand that he was shouting that loud on phone to someone and thus ensued the verbal duel,when we got up and asked the guy “ Excuse me, What the hell are you think you are doing?”

Meanwhile there was another guy sitting next to him,his friend who screamed out aloud, “Sorry, do you girls want to talk to us? Did we say anything vulgar?”

Adding to this he said “Why do you girl keep asking for attention?”

My friends and I were flabbergasted. We went to the CCD manager and told him what was happening but they didn’t seem to listen at all.They paid us no heed.However we decided we would not get bogged down and continued to sit at the store.The guys were still passing comments at us but the store manager did nothing. Desparate to teach them a lesson we called our guy friends.(Sorry we dont believe in the Police).

   By the time the guy friends entered these guys were gone and so was the store manager. Our guy friends shouted at the waiters asking them for the store manager’s number,who we were told fled to a neighbourhood CCD outlet.The next part was all the more interesting. People at CCD started telling us to keep quiet as we were spoiling their mood.A long verbal duel ensued but we made it clear that we wont leave untill the manager comes back.

When we confronted the manager ,he said he could do nothing as the guys in question were regular customers who frequented the place 4-5 times a day and that he was not allowed to take action against customers. When we told him that if it were to happen to any female of his family he became aggressive and told us not to make it personal.

 The end result was helplessness that we three ladies had to face.I wish I knew  those swashbuckling Angelina Jolie shots. I know that the "male gaze" is probably evolutionary and anthropological and cant be helped,but passing lewd comments is not humane.Go out ladies and learn some Karate.

P.S  Sorry Saina,I will quit badminton and learn Karate.
I am sure Saina,you will understand this change of plan because all we want is dignity and equality in society.

TIME FLIES - 4

I had started this sequence long back when I was about to leave college.Last chapter of this series, always remained incomplete and here I am ready to complete it with a special thank you to friends with whom I bonded closely in my final year. As the very special Ladakh trip saw me visiting them again I just decided that I had to thank them .

Vivek: Had it not been for his nudging I would never have written this piece. The guy who hates being called a “khatta” despite being one ;is one of those sweet and decent guys girls want to be friends with. That may be his deepest regret,as he hates being called sweet. His friends call him “core” . I don’t know really know why,but probably he was involved in the core committee of some event in the first year.

The guy is an emotional poet.He contributed a lot on LAN.He has probably screened every series,that released in the US and UK.A Poets Of The Fall fan.I remember in college most of our conversations would be on HOUSE MD and debates on “why gaming is bad”. Vivek would ask me for a treat each time I was in the vicinity of the college canteen and obstinate as I was I never bowed to his request.A geek who knew about every software released and  would pay deadly attention in class(at the prof).He is quite a chatterbox and is very close to his family about whom he mentions a lot. This guy has always tried to make me feel how Jamshedpur is the best place to be in ,but I am yet to see how and why.

Ritwik:

Together Ritwik and Vivek made a deadly combo that would be a talking machine. Ritwik and I played Name passes that was more or less Antakshari with names of places. He would always end up giving me names of places that had to start with Y or X. Apparently he had memorised a lot of names of places in China . Ritwik would buy all junk aloo bhujia and chips but would never share it with any one as MONKEY D LUFY had to wake up at wee hours and consume it while playing DOTA .  He is one of those guys who can go on about any damn topic on earth and speak no end. It has always been amazing fun talking to him.Rits also has this knack of teasing you at the most inappropriate times in the most inappropriate ways. Together Vivek and Ritwik were always armed with gossip that could set houses on fire. Ritwik and vivek would fight so often on the slightest issues and remain cold to each other for months. Though Ritwik is stinking rich he hardly ever let us know.
This guy left Ferguson college for a college in Jharkhand. Why?

KP: KP’s whereabouts can be gauged miles away from his epicentre.Yes that is his vibration level. Though friends have always teased him for his loud(read: shrill) voice he has never taken things to heart. KP is one guy who will be perpetually with full cash doling out money for everyone in the canteen. He would prove to be an advisor for most of his friends especially female friends. His phone would always be abuzz with calls from all around the world.You could see him discussing all kinds of strategies of AOE and DOTA in the canteen table over a piece of paper.He is one proud Bihari loved by all his friends.

Isha: So this mechanigal was one of the most cool women.When I would hurry for class and leave she would wake up with her toothbrush. As for the day she would remain asleep.Always sleepy during exams she would panic till the last time saying she  had hardly read anything. pronto ! She would rank 2 or 1 in exams. A sharp brain with definitely spectacled  eyes and lovely locks. Her nocturnal delights included watching series and staying awake.Her room would be in perpetual chaos. Isha would be a constant companion whenever I wanted to go around the college gallivanting in search of food.An energetic dancer . This confused girl from Ambala is now doing super cool nuclear science.

Alpana: Alps and I could go on and on about movies,books,places,nature,feminist policies and all life in general.An avid photographer,Alpana got us special permission from the warden when we wanted to explore forbidden areas around the college.She introduced me to the college’s den,something I had missed in the 3 years of college life,”the sharmaji samosa and chai”. Alps and I volunteered together for the training and placement cell and I must say she is very good at whatever she does which  includes being a gold medallist in civil engg.  and a YIF scholar .

Susmita: A foodie,a passionate architect Susmita was this constant walker who loved to go on long walks and I got to share her company a few times. Her knowledge and passion for small and big things has always fascinated me.

Other blogs in this Time Flies Series
Time Flies 1

Time Flies -2
Time Flies-3

De-networking

When I googled to find out if there was a word “de-networking”,I found nothing close to the meaning I wanted to imply .

The word I coined is analogous to the word  “de-friending” only that instead of removing a friend from an online social network you remove yourself from the social network.

While I was very active on the social networking forum sharing articles and pieces I found interesting, a considerable number of my friends were deactivating their accounts.They were on a sabbatical as they referred to it.They had had enough of timeline cacophony or probably realised the drudgery of peeping into people’s lives and wanted to go far from the madding crowd and wanted some amount of soul searching.

Well,I had tried some regulation myself.On advice of a friend I downloaded the app “stay focused” that would block facebook (on my chrome browser)after a default time.

However on weekends I would bypass it and sheepishly check into facebook through IE,but at the end up signing out equally fast as IE stood for Inept Experience .I dont  carry a smart phone so apps got less on to me.

  One fine day I decided that I had had enough of it.Why should I get photographed just for the sake of profile pictures? Why should I vent my spleen and unleash emotions over my wall on facebook? Why show  my brooding highbrow side to people on  facebook?Why “share” things with people?Why look into what my ex crushes are upto? Why come to know who is marrying whom and where they are  headed off for honeymoon? Why come to know who has bought which car?Why come to know which movie is worth watching? Why rely on facebook birthday updates and why on earth wish them in the most cheapest way by writing “Happy Birthday” on their walls?Why accept friend requests from people I barely know?

Thank God! I de-networked.It has given me time for a lot of great things I had always loved to do but never found time for.

I work at office.I work out after office.Do my yoga.I meet friends in person.I read a book.I cook at times.I paint.I learn music.I am clearly more focussed. I realise life is more than flashy clothes and vacations in Europe.In short I am contented and extremely happy.

Damn! But how do I get to let you guys know how happy I am.I cannot share this article on facebook.Well I have not taken a resolution to quit facebook.I am just on a break and will be back when I have had enough of social solitude.

Holy Shit!

Okay so writers can write about any shit!Just like India TV covers any shit!That’s when I thought why not blog “shit!”

Shit is a word so commonly used that for a long time I didn’t know what shit meant.I thought it was the english counterpart of the Hindi “Bhak!”,a mere expression.One day while I was standing in the assembly queue and a white slimy matter fell on my head;my teacher came up to me and  said, “Girl go clear away that shit!”

I said “No Madam this is bird’s potty”

“Argh..shit is a better word for it girl,look up the meaning of shit in your oxford dictionary”I must have been in class 4 or 5 then .

  So a girl trips over her heel and discovers she has stepped on cow’s shit and there she exclaims “Oh,Shit!”

Guy sees that hot girl at the traffic signal and once the light turns green, “Oh shit man! She’s gone”

   Thinking about its origin ,both shit and poop are  Onomatopoeia . Yet they sound so different. Now that’s some “shit for thought”!

Well in our country isn’t shit the most ubiquitous word.Well you see,smell,hear  “shit” everywhere.I mean that with a pun.

And here is a guy who sheds some more light on it.

Meet Mr. Toilet 

But what makes our country so special apart from the huge amount of shit we generate is the way we do it.We ought to take some pride in it.Here read this to know the health benefits of the Indian squat toilet,before you install a new western one.It was laid out in Manusmriti.

 I am sure the toilet table will turn someday! The west has to learn more than just yoga from us.

What I find really disconcerting is why do we need to be all shy about attending the nature’s call?

Why keep it all hush,hush! Of course  people can be celibates but not shit-libates. As Nike’s swoosh says “Just do it!”

If there are times  that  remind  us of the fact that we are but animals,it  is  in times  like these .The time when pressure and stress takes a toll on us! 

Imagine little kids sheepishly asking their teachers “Madam,please can I goto Toilet” and Madam saying "Not,now"

Take a look at this  picture.George W Bush writes to Condoleeza Rice to let him go on a loo break.

If you think I am lying go here.

On the contrary there is a lesson Umpire Dickie Bird has left for us.During a test match at Old Trafford between England and West Indies he urgently wanted to go to the toilet and so stopped the match saying to the players, "I’m very sorry, gentlemen, but nature calls". He then ran off to the toilet to the amusement of the players and a tremendous roar from the crowd.

The Thinker by August Rodin 

 

Could have been one of those STINKERs who spend hours thinking and shitting in the toilet!


Now if you excuse me but I gotto hurry too!

Monica Oh My Darling

So how many of us turn to the Sitcom Friends for respite.

If there is one series that will be talked about like Leonardo Da Vinci’s MonaLisa in ages to come It has to be Friends.

I request the  script writers Marta Kauffman and David Crane to write  it out in a papyrus and put it in vacuum bottles and throw them in sea, send them on moon and rest thrown away at  Paris.(near the tombs of hot models;people are bound to find it)Though my favourite character is Phoebe Buffet but if I can totally connect with someone in  Friends  it is Monica.

  Oh yes we were both overweight when in school.Monica had earned the epithet of “Big Fat Goalie”. Remember when Ross(Monica’s brother) reveals that she caused their parents' porch swing to break; it had been previously thought that a hurricane had broken it. Ross tells that after being sent to bed without dinner one night, Monica tried to eat the macaroni glued to her jewelry box.  I remember as a child when I resembled what even my teacher called "baby elephant" ,my cousin got me sweets and I jumped out of joy at the sight to break a bed .At night when my parents would go off to sleep I would sneak and steal cookies and cakes.

      Oh yes I want my  place spick and span.The first thing that came to my mind when I shifted to my own apartment was no TV,no sofa but a vacuum cleaner. Monica calls her dry cleaner  her Disneyland.

      Oh yes I like elderly brawny men(read: Arjun Rampal) just as she likes Richard.

     Oh yes I have always believed in the Japanese 5s methodology and so does Monica. She categorizes towels into 11 sections, examples being "everyday use," "fancy," "guest," and "fancy guest."I do that in 5. Masalas labelled in my kitchen just as Monica has her spoons labelled.To know more about 5s method

    Oh  yes I am a workout freak and like Monica I have coaxed quite a lot of friends to try it out. Here too most of our friends have not matched our standards and both Mon and I have given up on our friends.

      Oh yes I am damn careful about the money I spend.I am too good at bargaining and hate to be duped. “I KNOW” is my favourite catchphrase too.

I love my possessions and hate losing them to anybody just as Monica. Remember how she refuses to lend any of her ear rings to Rachel because she misplaces them always. I am very smart in asking my possessions back when I’ve lent it. I have always been like that.In class 5 when we had to frame a sentence on idioms.

A friend of mine wrote this . Shrill can be a bear with a sore head,if you take away her notebook and don’t return it back to her.

      Oh yes I am hyper excited most of the times and voice can be shrill and piercing as Mon’s.I love to treat friends with my delicacies and playing a host and how dare they say I am bad at it.

      We both have a stickler for time. When Monica becomes Phoebe's wedding planner, she orders the events run on "military time". I always would reach class at time in college and only later would I come to know that it was supposed to be bunked.

        By now you must have realised how self obsessed the two of us are. I will scribble my name in every book and writing pad. Recently I was so self engrossed that I addressed  “Dear Sneha”  on a beautiful card we got to gift  a friend.

        Quirks and idiosyncrasies  are what make people interesting.

        Thanks to all my friends for accepting me the way I am !!

        I’ll be there for you....

P.S "I KNOW" Its not Archies Friendship’s day today.