Intimacy

It was smoking hot.
Their lips didn't meet,
Their bodies didn't touch,
A friendly banter came by once in a while,
Love filled the air.

A cool breeze blew,
Their bodies trembled,
Not because of fear
Not because of titillation,

He was sitting on a swing,
She was gently moving it for him,
They played with each other's minds.
A game both understood very well.

It was at nine in the night
I noticed the old couple from my balcony,
The man was on the swing,
The lady on the chair.

What stood between them was
a neatly placed chess board.
What stood between their minds
was nothing but "Intimacy".

Chai,Chai - Travels in places you stop but never get off

When I walk into landmark or any book store, the last thing that I would buy is a travel book.Why would I read a travel book when Discovery Channel or Nat Geo showed me wonderful images that I can never erase off my memory.As I walked through every section scanning for new books, a book named Chai Chai- Travels in places you stop but never get off, caught my eye. The author's name was very familiar. Bishwanath Ghosh rang a bell in my head. I kept moving from section to section flipping through books trying to recall who Bishwananth Ghosh was.

Finally, I bought some stationery and decided to leave. As I stood in the queue waiting for the items to be billed, I saw a stand with the latest magazines and papers. There was cosmopolitan, Femina, Star Dust, Madras Musings, and then Indian Express. The moment I saw the New Indian Express, it struck me who Bishwanath Ghosh was. He was a famous columnist. He wrote a column called sunday spin which I never missed. I have some of his articles neatly cut and clipped in my cupboard.He was my inspiration. It was he who made fight for breaking "The Hindu" tradition at home. Although the tradition of "The Hindu" never broke at home, a new tradition of buying the Sunday express followed. Now for a long time I neither saw the name Bishwanath ghosh nor the Sunday spin column.Quietly I came out of the queue and ran to the new arrivals section. I took this bright yellow book in my hand and straight went to the billing counter. The last thing Bishwanath Ghosh could do was put you to sleep. This faith made me buy the book with all confidence.

Chai Chai describes the journey of the author to the big railway junctions in India. I never knew so many even existed. He starts off from Mughal Sarai in Uttar pradesh. Ghosh describes the train journeys so vividly that you recall some of the best train journeys in your life. He tells you the different ways in which different people in India travel. How south Indians make it a point to carry Idli's on the train while Marwari's bring five full meals neatly packed.

The author takes you through the journey of almost the entire length and breadth of the country. He starts from Mughal Sarai trvels to Jhansi,Itarsi,Guntakkal,Arakonnam and finally ends his journey at shoranur. He describes the life in these cities and his experiences there. No traveller would ever explore all of these places. No news channel or paper would cover these places unless there was a bomb blast or train accident.

As you read Chai Chai you'd notice that the author expresses his love for whisky quite evidently.This doesn't make the book shallow or a bad read. A perfect mix of facts and entertainment, I would call it. This was one of the few travel books that wasn't filled with facts and eight letter long words, which would take me at least ten minutes to figure out if it were an adjective or adverb. I would have definitely missed a good read had I not picked the book that day.Now I know why the railway system is the spine of the nation.Now I know why we have a separate Railway budget. Now I knew how some cities in India would be non existent if the railways wasn't there. He's given travel writing a new dimension, I must say.

And next time when I'd travel on a train, I would recall Bishwanth's journey more than mine.

Eating maggi together in wet weather

We met, we talked, and we liked each other,

The more we talked the more we liked.

The more we liked the more we loved.

The more we loved, we never met.

The more I knew him, the more he knew me,

As we began talking more, we started loving more,

But ,we never saw each other more and more.

We ate magi together during the wet weather,

Listened to sad songs and cried together.

But still we never met each other.

We never ruled each other’s thoughts,

We never had demands from the one another,

Still we loved each other and

Ate maggi together during wet weather.

Mistakes

Mistakes are made,

Mistakes are felt,

Mistakes are buried,

And mistakes are bred.

Mistakes teach you,

Mistakes follow you,

Mistakes trouble you

And Mistakes help you.

Mistakes tittilate you,

Mistakes kiss you,

Mistakes love you.

And mistakes can't live without you.

Life would be simpler if you just

eat, sleep,love,and kiss your mistakes.

A "mistakeless" life is one without

kissing,loving or learning.

Self indulgence at Five Rupees

Until yesterday I thought that drowning myself in wine or chocolate, or rose petals followed by a body massage with the most expensive and rare aroma oils, could be the best thing in this world. I called this self indulgence until yesterday. Only the descendants of the Raj kapoor clan or one of the Ambanis could afford this kind of self indulgence on a daily basis. And damn!!!! I envied them for this. I always wished someone would present me with one of those 99.99% discount coupons to one of the posh spa's in town, and I could indulge in myself without feeling a wee bit guilty about wasting money.

But let me tell you, yesterday my perception changed. It was 5.00 pm in the evening, and while I was wondering what could kill my boredom which was eating my head, I just got reminded that I had forgotten to pay my Dad's credit card and mobile bills which he asked me to pay in the morning itself. I decided to walk it down, as the weather in chennai for a change was very windy and pleasant. Half way down it began to rain. There wasn't even a slight warning in the form of drizzle and the rain came with a bang. Now I ain't like any of those filmy heroines who loves to get wet in the rains and dance to tunes. Rains are such a pain I tell you. All your clothes get messy and your shoes and pants are messed with mud. The wet weather irks me and I hate it. In chennai with many drains overflowing the rain mixes with sewage and there is a high probablitiy that you are walking on diluted urine.

Before I could find a roof above my head I was all wet. So there was no point now to go and huddle up in front of those big showrooms along with old uncles and aunties. The last thing I ever wanted , on the top of getting wet was caress my wet shoulders with theirs. So I was walking with the rain. I finally reached the destination and paid the bills. The man at the counter looked at me with disgust while taking the wet cheque from my hands. I wanted to tell him " what are you staring at dumb ass??? You'd look more disgusting if wet", but I just kept quiet. Instead I gave him a nasty stare that would have told him lots more.

As I got out of the showroom, I carefully tip toed so as to avoid the muddy puddles just when a fast indica, splashed all the muddy water over me. I was fuming. I spewed the worst words I ever knew at the driver. As I was busy cursing the driver, a man in a cart selling peanuts distracted me. Wow Peanuts were the best thing that could drive away all my depression right now, I thought.

I dug deep into my bag and found one wet and slightly torn five rupee note. I walked up to the cart and asked him for peanuts worth 5 bucks. He was happy to see me. In the rain I was his only customer. He quickly took the hot peanuts into his measurement cup and packed it into a cone with papers from an old tamil magazine. The cone had the photo of Namitha - tamil cinema's sex bomb on it. I gave him the soaked torn note. He didn't seem to mind. He took it with a smile. Seeing me buy the peanuts, a small boy and his mother on a Scooty also stopped to buy some peanuts. I felt good about it. I had brought the poor chap some business. I was his lucky charm, I thought.

I was so excited about the the peanuts. It was warm and as I was holding it in my hand, I felt like I was in heaven. I was walking on the middle of the road. Cars honked loudly behind me and threatened to splash muddy water on me. I could care less. I couldn't get more wet and more muddy. I felt like the king of the world. The aroma of the hot salted peanuts and the feeling of it cracking in my mouth made me feel like I was in a spa with rose petals and honey. With the cool wind blowing and the rain dying out, and with each peanut that cracked inside my mouth I felt high. I felt better than heaven. It was self indulgence at Rs.5.

As I walked back home, I carefully crafted a small paper boat out of the paper with Namitha's picture and let it float. The boat with Namitha didn't float for long, but my satisfaction did.

Irony of similar thoughts

A house with a swimming pool,

with a name board carved in gold

was life is what they thought.

Sacrificing their love for a limousine

didn't seem a sacrifice at all.

Life's journey made them

take different paths,

Walking on a lonely road wasn't

difficult, right from start.

Each passing day made them

regret choosing their own path.

Both felt Life would have been

better if they had killed the love

in their heart, right from the start".

Another couple watched the moon lit sky

with a sweet wind passing by,

For their house didn't have a roof.

Love had brought them together,

They had two lovely kids

And a lovely family.

Each day they had to struggle

hard to make end meets.

They yearned for a limousine and

A house with the name board carved in gold.

Both felt Life would have been

better if they had killed the love

in their heart, right from the start".

Of feminism, stupidity and randomness.

My mother calls me a zombie. Everyday I wake up at 7, sometimes 8 and the days I sleep at 5 a.m, I wake up at 8:30. I quickly get dressed up and with a blank look on my face, I leave for work. My ears are plugged with with head phones of my mp3 player and with random thoughts clouding over my head I cross the crowded roads and subways. I get back home by 7, and straight I go to sit with my computer.I read random blogs, view random videos and talk to random people. This has been my life for the past one month, my two best friends being my computer and my mp3 player.

So this weekend, I decided to break off from the zombie routine. I took my patti ( grandmother in Tamil. I detest referring to her as granny or grandmother.) for a movie she was long wanting to watch and spent time helping my mom with the Navarathri pooja. I also decided to pay some attention to one gadget I had lost touch with- The Television. After the huge tamasha Rakhi Sawanth created choosing a groom for herself, she has now decided to play mom. As I just flipped through channels, I saw this show named "Mein, Mere pati Aur Woh" ( I,My Husband and That). I wonder which parent would refer to their child as woh. This show showcases the child managing capabilities of some pseudo celebrity couples. And Rakhi Sawant cribs about the child assigned to her. She is unable to put the poor child to sleep and ends up bitching about the child. I would want to tell Mrs. Rakhi, that being a mom is not only about raising kids. Its needs a whole lot of sacrifice, patience, love, affection ,practicality and ability to handle tough situations. The women in this show showcase none of the above mentioned qualities and they are the going-to-be moms. Wasn't there a better way of gaining publicity? I guess the supreme court should bring a stand against casting such shows on national television. These shows not only portray a false image of celebrities but also tarnish the image of the many smart mothers in the country. Moreover the impact Rakhi Sawanth would have on the mind of a poor little one year old, toddler is definitely a punishable offense. On the pretext of a reality show, T.V channels are performing a different kind of child molestation.

Another funny show that I came across was called perfect bride. I wonder why this show is called the perfect bride. A woman remains a bride for a maximum of 48 hours. I wonder if the show is to search for a bride or for the most stupid woman and man in India. The main motive of this reality show is to search for the perfect bride who can adjust to the needs of the husband and mother-in-law. And here's how it goes. There are a bunch of 12 women and 12 men who are in search of a perfect partner. The men come along with their mothers who also specify their demands from their to-be Daughters-in-law. The demands are as follows: she must be pretty, she must be well mannered, she must be able to adjust to our family, she shouldn't get angry. Now the bunch of mothers in law and to-be brides are put into one house and all the grooms are put into another. Some of the girls already begin to eye some of the guys and try to act as good as possible with the particular moms. There are situations when two women eye for the same guy and cheap fights take place among the two. Among these groups of 10 men and 10 women some get eliminated. I have no clue why. In the house these women hang around in mini shorts and low neck T-shirts and the mothers- in-law seem to be pretty cool with their clothes. Most of women are in the age group of 20-24. The men are in the age group of 24-30.

The thing that makes me wonder is how could these men and women in their 20's come on national television and show the world their worthlessness. I was under the impression that the youth of this country were an ambitious lot. I wonder which company would have given these men, more than a month of leave during times of recession. And one among these men are going to be crowned as the perfect groom. While feminists in the country are fighting for women to be included in the army, and against the cheer leaders during T-20 matches, I think they should fight against such a stupid show, which shows to the world a bunch of women who's only ambition is to become some sort of pseudo daughter-in-law who publicly stalk men. At the end of it all, I had a good laugh.

The poor quality of reality shows is something that makes me cry. I miss the days when there used to be only 2 channels on the T.V. One was Doordarshan National and the other was DD metro. The most sought after shows were The world this week, Surabhi and Malgudi days. Every week, as a whole family all of us used to look forward to it. And each time I heard the song mile sur mera tumhara I run to watch it even if it was the millionth time. Its been more than five years now, that I watched a T.V show regularly with my mom,dad and patti.

I want to be me.

As I stepped into this world,

I came to be known as a Daughter.

Years rolled by and I became wife,

Soon a mother, I will be.

Time sped and I just realised,

Entangled by the chains of Daughter,

Mother and wife,

I have never been me,

Never been the one I wanted to be.

As of now I have only one dream,

Before I die, the world I have known,

Should call me no mother,

no daughter, no wife..

But just call me as

'The one and only one.'

Singling Out Men and Women

When we sit to think about what made us the person today we are, what would make us the person we want to be tomorrow, there pop up numerous answers. But none of us can dispute the fact that there was a lot of sacrifice that was borne by our very own creators - mom's to make us the person we are today. My grandmother sacrificed a companion to raise three kids all alone, after becoming a widow at quite a youthful age of 32. My mom scarified promotions and perks to make me the person today I am.

The thing that bothers me today is the fact most women have to weigh their profession and work against their family. One of the biggest atrocities most middle class women face, is when they are made to make a choice between her career and family. Not all of them get to enjoy the complete package of goodies: an understanding husband and Great kids and a successful career. We do see real life examples.Jaya Baduri had to do away with her acting after she married Mr.Bachan.She had a perfect family and perfect kids but her career went for a toss. She could have turned out to be the greatest star who might have won most number of national awards if she hadn’t become Mrs. Bachan.It was a choice she made no doubt. But why do women always have to make these choices. All women get the cake but most women never get to eat it.

When you weigh down single men and single women (dumped, divorced, widowed or single by choice) you'd clearly find single women surpass single men on every scale and are a way lot smarter than them. Let’s compare two of our very able single politicians too.Jayalalitha and Atal Behari Vajpayee.Don't you find Jaya Amma a way smarter than Mr.Vajpayee?  Be it in career or in raising kids, single women are better at handling both. Women always have clearly defined purposes in life. 

Most single women are single by choice. This does not apply to single men. Why would any man choose to be single??? Most single men either have this huge complex about themselves or suffer from depression which makes them do weird things. So next time you get a random friend request or you receive a sympathetic mail on Orkut or face book you know who's doing it. For men who choose to be single its definitely not a choice. Singleness is forced upon them. 

To the man who quoted the following: "Behind every successful man there is a woman and behind every unsuccessful one there follow two." I want to tell you that you need us more than we need you. Singleness be it forced upon us, or be it by our own choice, WE DON'T CRUMBLE.

Hey Mr. Principal!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

It’s that time of the year again! Board examinations! Every student is burning the midnight oil, cramming in facts that they never learnt before, and the adrenalin is pumping really high. They are told that this phase can make or break their lives.

Generally the 12^th standard board examination is the real test of fire as the marks acquired in the exam determines one’s admission into the course of his/her dreams. The 10^th standard examination which was introduced to give the students a feel of a public exam has become more important these days. Schools set the marks acquired in the 10^th standard examinations as a bench mark for giving their students the science/commerce / humanities streams. If you don’t get the required marks you wouldn’t be given the stream of your choice. This leaves many students in a dilemma. They could stay in the same school and pursue a course which they don’t like or change schools to follow their dreams.

The school is considered a second home and the teachers our second mothers. It is here that each individual learns his first lessons in life and makes impressions that last forever. It is here we make our first friends in life. Every student shares a bond with his/her school.  It is unfair when schools refuse to give you the course of your choice only because you got a few marks lesser than what is required.  It is even more unfair, when schools admit new students and ask those who have been with the school since Kindergarten to leave. The 2 digit number called “marks” is all that matters to them.

They don’t care about the trauma a 15 yr old student undergoes. The pain of parting from friends and teachers who have been with you during the formative years is difficult to overcome, and it is even worse when you are made to feel like a loser for not having secured the required marks. The system fails to provide you with enough information about the various streams. Students must be provided with more information about the various options available to them and asked to make their choices. It is often considered shameful to pursue any course without a science and mathematics base. All of us have this wrong notion that only those with weak fundamentals would take up the humanities or pure science groups. In the race for the IIT’s and NIT’s we fail to explore new avenues .We fail to understand that there is no Nobel prize for engineering or Business. Schools fail to understand that the marks obtained in the board examinations never judge a student’s aptitude or interest in a particular subject.  They only judge the student’s ability to cram in facts.

It is sad to see that our schools are making their students mere mark churning machines. A system of testing that can judge both the student’s interest and aptitude must be adopted by schools. This would bring out the best talent in each student. The rat race for the IIT’s and NIT’s has made creativity and innovation take a back seat. Schools should focus on making their students well rounded persons with a sense of social responsibility and not mere mark-churners.

Dear Mr. God!!

It was a hard day.I wanted to be in solitude for a while. So, I took a stroll to the nearby park and sat on a bench there. I was immersed in thoughts when I found this notebook beside me. curiously I opened it and flipped through the pages to read the following, I could relate to it so well.

"Dear Mr God!!

Hello, I really don't know where you exist or in what form you exist? They say you are in people's hearts. I searched hard couldn't find you in mine. But I certainly believe, you do exist. God today has been the worst day of my life in ages. I haven't spoken to anyone or even smiled a bit. Well even you didn't help me out today. Coming to the point I just realized something. You are even more confused than I am.

You created the world. Thats something worth appreciating. You really did a very good job. The mountains,oceans,rain ,snowfall,the breeze, the snow fall everything is amazing. You do have some great engineering sense. And you have crafted the interiors of the world in a brilliant way. Hats off to you for that.

You know where u really goofed up. It was when you created man and a woman. I guess you created them by mistake or something, but why the hell did you make them love? Now don't gimme this crap that you didn't create love and that it was just an outcome. You are bloody well responsible for it. With this damn thing called love came an entire package of baddies- hate, envy,jealousy,revenge. And you have the cheek to say love is simple. Love is so complicated and damn you for creating it. And guess what?? No one can live without it. We can live without food but not without love.

This damn love is creating hell for me. It really hurts God. It aches inside me. I wanna cry aloud but no one is listening. You made a mistake god. Love is very painful. Why did you create it. Did you wanna watch a 24X7 soap from the skies by creating this damn thing called Love? You are sadistic!!!

yours sincerely,

Man

PS: Come down from where ever you stay and answer me you SOB. Otherwise I'll come to heaven someday, catch your collar and make you answer me.

The frustrations are truly amalgamated.