Chaadni Raatein

Are you afraid of death? Do you not want to die? How is it knowing you’re going to die someday? What if you knew when you were going to die?


To answer my questions myself – no, I am not afraid of death. At least not death as a concept. Sure, I don’t want to die in a slow, painful way. I’d prefer the quick, instantaneous types where I don’t even realise its pack up time…


I don’t not want to die. I don’t not want to live either. I know death is inevitable. As mum always reminds me, the time for each one to be born, to marry and to die is fixed. Your time of demise is finalised the very second you’re born. So, I am aware its going to happen, and as I have no regrets in life, I don’t mind saying goodbye when the time comes… Frankly, I don’t know if I will be ready when it actually happens or if all my wishes will have been fulfilled leaving me content and happy. But I do know that I won’t curse god or beg to live. I’ll accept it gracefully.

If I knew when I was going to die, I’d definitely freak out a little and mark it on my calendar!


Before the destined hour, I would make all the telephone calls, visits and donations that I need to make, and joyfully tell everyone that I love them. I’ll thank them for making my living moments cheerful, memorable ones and I’ll also ask for forgiveness if I’ve intentionally or unintentionally hurt them. And last but not the least, I’ll tell them I’m going away forever and not to miss me too much. And hey, don’t not miss me either :-)

It is one thing to wait for it in its own sweet time, and entirely another to see it coming, with as much certainty as night follows day. I speculated whether I would jump into the sea and just stop swimming, letting the waves take me where they may and finally drown me when they were done playing.

I had no answer then. The answer fails me now too.


But I do know this. If I ever happen to be disabled beyond repair or hospitalised for life, I don’t want that life. Please kill me. Euthanasia might be a crime. But I cannot expose myself to pain and others to inconvenience for a few hours / days / weeks of laboured breathing. I will not have needles stuck into me, so what if the absence thereof cuts short my life by a few months? I’d rather live a short, healthy, independent life with respect than a lengthy one that is a trouble for me and others alike.


Oh, and make sure my eyes are donated. I want someone to be able to see. To understand what colours are, to know what beauty is, to watch playful puppies and the sultry sunrise... to feel blessed…


Just like what I felt when I looked outta the window that night in my house…

Barnita Haldar's photostream

Barnita Haldar's photostream on Flickr.

Fear Has A New Address

(No, not coz the festival of colors is here, and you need to watch out for sneaking eyes and peeking hands ready to douse you with rang and gulaal.... Best wishes for Holi, readers!)


Read this anonymous letter I found the other day.

Me frustrated. Me donno what to do. Me think I kill myself. Or I just die. I do no want to live. Nobody like me. Nobody need me. All think me bad person. Me care for people, people do no understand, people fight. Me get angry. Me hurt people. My life no good. Me no trouble no one still people no like me. Me brave and stubborn. Me also blunt and intelligent. So many say me good, me reach success, me capable. But me no happy. Me alone, me sad. I donno fault. How can all world be wrong? No. Me wrong. Me end life. Me got no guts, so me live on.

Interesting, eh? Especially the last line... Do you need guts to kill yourself, or do you need balls to survive?

I guess it’s that split second where you are so depressed and frustrated, that you muster all your valor to sacrifice your life. If that second passes, you’re never gona be able to do it again. So, in a way, death and life – both need courage. (Though of course, if anyone suicidal were to approach me, I’d say that suicide is for cowards, and one ought to live on to fight and overcome challenges.)


Eager to know your thoughts on this, friends and readers. And on the following points, too...

Like why a woman in power is subject to prejudice and contempt for no real reason. Why a divorced/widowed woman is looked down upon by society more critically than a male. Why a female who flirts and sleeps around is called a bitch, while a man doing the same is considered nothing abominable. Why when enjoying sex (which is logically and in reality the privilege of both genders), a woman is expected to be coy and her sole duty in bed is to satisfy her man, regardless of her own pleasures and needs. Why a woman who commits a crime evokes horror, while a man in her shoes gets the “chalta hai” gesture.

WHY??

Society assumes several things about a woman, and expects these assumptions to hold true whatever the case may be. Given the superior education, exposure, lifestyle, family and upbringing. How fair is this?? Who decided it to be this way? Why are we still falling prey to this bias? Is gender equality only a myth? True, the topmost positions in the world in all areas are held by men (and I congratulate them on that), but why cannot we tolerate vices in females, too?!!


We’re all human, right?!!!


Cheerio!

Happy Women's Day!

I know some of you think that male-bashing is my favorite subject and pastime. But trust me, I love both genders for their peculiarities and specialities. In fact, I’d say that I like women as they are connected to their and others’ emotions, and I like men because they are fun company.

(Want to expand your vocabulary? A man-hater is a misandrist and a woman-hater is a misogynist.)

Know what? Just like men want to fool around with a sexy siren and marry a virgin, girls want to date boys and finally wed a gentleman. Fair enough, eh?

Anyways, let me wish all you female readers a VERY HAPPY WOMEN’S DAY.

(I know ladies say they don’t think just ONE day needs to be celebrated, but they love the pampering nevertheless, so let the passion flow!)

And the men who are reading this, move your butt and start wishing the feminine folk around you.

(They’ll hate you less, though they might poke fun at your sentimental side. So they laugh at your expense and start liking you; not that bad a deal, right?)

Here are a few ways to make your woman feel special today… some that I’ve thought of myself, and others that I’ve picked off the net. Oh, and you might check out 10 things while you’re still reading this…

1. Tell her you love her. A hundred times. (You do that already? All right, make it a million. Don’t stop.)

2. Do something to surprise her. (I mean surprise, NOT shock.) So, give her flowers or buy her chocolates or anything else that she likes. It could even be not leaving the towel and dirty linen around or taking her out for an impromptu coffee or drive. Or even keeping everything aside and spending some quality time just listening to her…

3. Tell her how special she is, and how your life is so much better because of her. Make her feel wanted and adored. Thank her for her commitment and sacrifices. And mean it. Saying sorry is not such a bad thing…

4. Treat her the same as your friends. Of course, give her more priority and be protective and courteous, but don’t make her think that you relax and enjoy more with your gang than with her. Share your problems and plans, and make her feel involved and respected. Take her opinions and know her desires. After all, she loves you! Don’t make her feel taken for granted, disrespected or not taken seriously. And most importantly, DON’T treat anyone else the same as you treat her. Let her be the sole recipient of all your excesses and granted liberties.

5. Let people “see” that you love her. Oh yes! A woman thinks a lot about what others think of her and her relationships. So, if you can show that your love “shows”, then she can’t argue that she cannot “see” your love. Confused? Don’t bother. Just do it. Private compliments, praise in public, light PDA like holding hands and caressing her (if appropriate), chivalry and romance – bring it on!

Well, five is a good number for starters, and if you can do all of the above, I can guarantee you a more blissful relationship with your partner.

Right, ladies? ;-)

And if there’s NO one to make you feel special, why weep? DIY or Do It Yourself is the name of the game… Watch a movie alone and eat all the popcorn yourself (WOW! No sharing!), go shopping and buy something unusual like a weird shade of lipstick or corset, or just take a quiet walk in the park or sit by the lake… Life is beautiful and you’re your favorite person!

Love ya!

Choosing the Right Choice

Tony wanted to get her home painted. And she was in a quandary.

Shocking pink or dull grey?

A colour that would stun everyone and prove exciting or a colour that’s look mellow yet stay longer?

It was a tough choice.

What would be better – she wondered… Looking at an attractive shade that frustrated her by peeling at the edges?

Or being within the confines of an insipid hue that did not wear off years after it was painted?

Would the exhilaration of the shocking pink dim out in the following months?

Maybe the gray that seemed monotonous now would make her comfortable in the years to come…

Sometimes decisions about simple things weren’t as simple as they appeared.


Just like relationships.


Boys want girlfriends that are “shocking pink” but not many of them would end up marrying them. Conjugal bliss is better guaranteed with girls that are “dull grey”. Or at least that’s what popular opinion claims.

Girls… I’m really not sure. I’d like to believe that they desire a lifelong partner and accordingly choose a boyfriend/husband. However, given the twenty-first century, modernization and rising infidelity, I shall remain non-committal on this.

Sometimes decisions about simple things weren’t as simple as they appeared…

What happened then?

I don’t know…

But I do hope that whatever she decided has brought her happiness and contentment.

After all, god never sent us down here to be unhappy.

He cares… for me… for you… for each one of us…

And destiny has things in store for every one of us.

Unfortunately, we only know what’s meant to be in hindsight. If only we knew whether our lives had shades of pink or grey, we’d be able to plan and act accordingly.

On the other hand, it is because we don’t know that our lives have a tinge of adventure and variety.


So, what’s your call - shocking pink or dull grey?


Life’s colourful :-)

And confusing…


May the lord be with you!


I definitely am…

The Price of Love

”

“Roar”, said the demon,
"I’m going to imprison you,
Neither friends nor family can you see,
All you shall have here, is me.

With me can you talk,
With me you’ll live alone,
I promise I’ll make you smile,
And to wipe your tears, I’ll do all that’s pure and vile.

But no one else can you call upon,
Though you command all that your heart wants,
Except for other humans, coz I can’t share you,
You’re too precious, too pretty, I can’t let you go.

I can’t risk you enjoying with another,
And refusing to return to me,
And even if you do, your heart will not be mine,
And I’d die rather than see you unhappy...

No! You must remain in this cage, this golden cage,
And I promise to keep you satisfied.”

"Ok”, said the princess,
"I love you, and I recognize how much you love me,
I don’t need anything else, except to be here with you.”
Alas, the foolish girl,
So innocent and short-sighted.

Life is funny and weird,
And our needs and desires even more so...
What seems so right one moment, looks ridiculous at another time,
And what one so deeply craves, turns out to be a curse.

"I miss my home”, the dainty lass said,
"It’s been so many weeks,
I want to see those that loved me,
And knew me much before we met...
I shall be back in a day’s time, I promise
Let me go, and I’ll return soon.”

The demon trembled, not a whisper escaped his lips,
After all, how long can one hold the clouds, the wind, the river...
He knew this would happen someday.

How could he refuse her, the one he lived and breathed for,
"Just a day”, she murmured, “A day, and not a second more.”
His eyes glistened with unwept tears
As he held her close, and felt her warmth,
He couldn’t let those drops flow,
Coz his princess’ last reflection was in them.

His heart wailed as he nodded,
“Ok my sweetheart,
I am your slave and I must obey.”

When one wishes something,
How fruitful is it to refuse?
Isn’t thinking it and doing it nearly the same?
Wouldn’t it sow the seed of sorrow and hurt?

"I love you,” he uttered, “always will”
Her hood fluttering in the breeze,
She disappeared over the horizon.

A day passed, and the princess thought,
"I guess another won’t hurt.”
And thus a week flew.

The princess enjoyed her new company,
Though she missed her crazy lover,
"I’ll surely leave tomorrow,” she kept telling herself,
But aren’t promises made to be broken?

She thought of him each day,
And how he worshipped her,
As the new month drew near,
She realized life wouldn’t be the same without him.

"I must go,” she said,
As her family bid adieu,
With arms open she flew,
To embrace the one who could die for her,
Or kill if need be.

The castle echoed her calls when she spoke his name,
She ran all about looking for her lover,
Until she reached the dungeon dark.

There sat the demon,
His lips curled in a moan,
"He died the instant you were beyond sight,” sighed a friendly stork.
"He asked me to wait till you came, so I could give you this.”

Tears rolled down her cheeks,
The princess unfolded the note,
"I love you, always will.
And I can’t bear my heart that beats without you...

Jhola Clutter

What do you carry with you when you go out?

Probably your cell-phone, keys and wallet. And perhaps a jacket, coz it’s cold these days. And if you’re a woman, then add other paraphernalia like lipstick, moisturizer, compact, and so on and so forth.

I carry my jhola. What’s a jhola, you ask?

Ahem...

Leme try.

It’s a sling bag kinda thing that you wear on your shoulder. Something that initially journalists used to carry, and then it started coming in a variety of colors and artwork so it became a huge hit with the teenagers as well. While khadi dominated the scene then, now jholas are found in every style .

That was the easy part. Now comes the challenge. Describing what it means to me, and unfolding its contents and uses.

My jhola’s an extension of my personality. (Ya, I know I said this blog is also one of those. But you see, everything I do is very ME...) So, my jhola - I can’t live without it. Anywhere I go, my jhola goes with me. For the last 2+ years.

The market’s full of shops and boutiques that sell trendy ladies bags in all colors and sizes. I’m amazed at my Sister who recently returned from a shopping spree with a Dalmatian-shaded purse and huge black handbag! Eww... Not my type by a long shot...

Come to think of it, I cannot remember ever having been an out-and-out feminine creature at any point in my life. I have those few recollections when I have enjoyed getting decked up in finery for some occasions and celebrations (like my sister's wedding for instance, when jeans and tops were forsaken for heavy brocades and expensive silks). But otherwise, ask my friends and colleagues, and they’ll scratch their heads when asked to recall the last time I wore a Punjabi dress.

I’ve always been a tomboy. No nakhras-jhatkas for me. Right from my no-nonsense hairstyle to my clothes to my mannerisms. (That was the case until fairly recently. Then, God knows how and when and why, I changed my ways and started buying more lady-like dresses and acting more womanish. Grew my hair, started wearing earrings. Some crazy hormonal change, I guess... Anyway, I’m not complaining. And from what I can see, no one else is, either!)

But hey, weren’t we talking about my jhola?

Right, so my jhola is my inseparable possession. What’s in it? Well, not much. It holds my purse and keys, my lip-balm , Uhh... ya a pen at times, and that’s about it.

Oh! My cell-phone (how can I forget that?!) That’s all.

(That IS all, I said...)

The best part about carrying a jhola is that it’s trendy and practical at the same time. I can wear it diagonally as I walk fast to get someplace, and I can hold it fashionably by the side as I hang out at a coffee bar. When you’re lost among strangers, a jhola gives you the perfect excuse to dive in and search fervidly for nothing at all for a precious 5 minutes. And when you’re trying to act cool, you can finger the strap and just look around...

A jhola NEVER lets you down. Trust me.

The moment I put my hand in my jhola (just about 15 times an hour), you know I’m spinning in the abyss of mystery. On no account can I find what I want. If I’m looking for my cell, and if I’m searching for my keys, out peeps the lip- balm. It’s basically something like Ali Baba’s potli (did he have one? Or was it someone else? Whatever... I can dimly vision “Potli baba ki” flashing on DD = Doordarshan every Sunday morning. And remember “Gucche” and “Chitrahaar”? Good ol’ days!)

Uh huh... Ranting and digressing again... But the point is, that jhola’s the way to go. You can carry it to work and parties, and you can wear it on jeans and salwars. Jholas look good in pink and yellow. Girls at 10 and women at 40, jholas aren't a burden on the pocket, and neither on your shoulder. In short, I’ve thought it out, and I’ve given it the ISI mark, so go ahead and get one (if you don’t have one already). I think they look better on women, but you guys can get it for your girls and try them in fronta the mirror, just to see if they suit you... (Dunno much about metrosexual and other preferences. No offence.)

Having said that, I must say I just got a new jhola/bag ..Its my Valentine Gift and its so pretty :) Thank you Love !!

Have a good week, buddies!

Tired of Sales / Customer Care Calls???

Hi!

If you're irritated with those annoying sales and customer care calls, then you've come to the right place, baby... Here are ten ways to stop those credit card sales, mobile companies, insurance calls from bugging you:

Hilarious!! Enjoy...

1. After the telemarketer finishes speaking, ask him/her to marry you. (!!!)

2. Tell the telemarketer (seductively) that you are busy, but you would love to talk about some interesting personal stuff and ask for his/her home telephone number so you can call back at night.

3. Ask them to repeat everything they say, several times. (!!!)

4. Tell them it is dinnertime, BUT ask if they would please hold. Put them on your speaker phone while you continue to eat at your leisure. Smack your food loudly and continue with your dinner conversation.

5. Tell them that all business goes through your agent, and hand the phone to your/somebody else's 5-year old child. (!!!)

6. If they start out with, "How are you today?", say "I'm so glad you asked, because no one these days seems to care, and I have all these problems............." Blah-blah-blah (Reminds me of Ghanta Singh!!!)

7. Tell them to speak very slowly because you want to write every word down.

8. Cry out in surprise, "Helen, is that you? I've been hoping you'd call! How is the family?" When they insist they are not Helen, tell them to stop joking. This works especially well if the telemarketer is MALE. (Vice-versa for females - "Hey Deepak! Kidhar hai sale??")

9. Tell the company call centre guy to call on your office number, and give him the rival company's call centre number.

10. Start taking the telemarketer's interview : "So, how many kids do you have? Are you married? What's your favorite food?......"

Now isn't THAT smart?!!!

Try it and leme know!

Don’t Know …

I don’t know what to title this post.

I don’t know what to do.

I don’t know if anything needs to be done.

Maybe I’m just acting up, going on my usual over-analyzing trip in overdrive.

I don’t know if it’s ill health that’s pulling down my spirits, or lack of excitement in my mundane life.

College, home, a given set of friends, a given set of activities and plans… And that’s my life summarized accurately.

Ya ya, I know that’s what most people also live each day.

But the point is I am restless… And I would like it to be different…

It’s slightly awkward writing all this here, coz now the readership of my blog extends to more people than I initially would have expected or liked. And yet, I gotta write this… Don’t ask me why. I don’t know. I just have to…

My life seems empty.

there are times when I feel so lost and lonely that I wana scream like a maniac and run away.

Equally true is the fact that I start jumping animatedly at the teeniest of situations and possibilities.

I pride myself at being able to experience these extreme emotions – it shows I’m human, as I always say. I don’t control my joy, and I don’t hide my anger. If I’m sad it shows on my face and if I’m thoughtful, its evident as well. No scope of miscommunication or doubt there.

However…

(Yeah, there’s always a “however”, isn’t there…? Life…)

I’m a terrific person, if I may modestly and truthfully admit. Most people call me the girl next door - unpretentious, approachable and warm. My liveliness endears me to most, and makes some envious. And yet, I want to be on good terms with everyone. Life’s too short to be mean or angry with anyone forever.

What also has a bearing is that I look at things from varied perspectives, so I can easily place myself in someone’s shoes and look at how angles change and affect. The flipside of that is… I care more about others’ emotions than my own.

My desire to make no one sad, my need to not upset anyone, makes me do things that I’d not do if I were to be me. You could call it growing up, you could term it fake. The reality is… I don’t know what it is. I don’t even know if I ought to change that. I do voice my opinion when I want, but I readily succumb to the other person’s response, without sticking to my guns and stubbornly holding onto my position.

How do I feel about it? Well, I think I’m being very mature and kind. That makes me feel pleased and proud. But what also comes to mind is that people might not take it the same way as I do, and I don’t want to be perceived negatively. Positive evaluation and tangible feedback are two EXTREMELY significant terms in my life.

I’m not sure if I’m making sense to you. But honestly, I think I’m making sense to myself, let’s leave it at that.

That’s only part of the story. The bit about not really giving precedence to myself and worrying about others.

The other part is… I don’t know where I’m heading. And I don’t mean with reference to my career

. I know exactly well how that shall turn out. Besides, it’s not that complicated or harrowing.

I have this constant restlessness within me, which I don’t know how to tackle or ease. I don’t know what it is.

I genuinely have no regrets in life, though I can’t help feeling less or more blessed, as compared to others, on various occasions.

I don’t know what it is that I truly want. Like someone asked me the other day, what’s my ambition? I don’t have one. Does everyone need to have one? I’m living my life as well as I can, and I’m letting destiny take me wherever it intends. I’m adapting and adjusting where required, and I’m taking a call on things that I want and could do without. I refuse to follow what the others say or do, and I make my own choices and live by them.

What bothers me, is that my flexibility is making me less me. The person who used to have a fixed list of expectations from some folks now shrugs off anger and frustration in a laidback, devil-may-care manner when her needs are unmet. Is that nice? It’s definitely helping me cope better with those folks, but I still feel ignored and not taken care of. I feel like I’m not important or priority enough.

I express this to the concerned individuals, but then I ask myself if it really matters. For instance, I would be happy if you contact me ten times a day, and anything below five is criminal. So, if it’s not feasible for you to connect that often with me, let me know, but my expectation remains. And yet, when you contact me, I will feel like you’re doing it out of a sense of obligation, and I realise there’s really nothing we have to talk about, so why fool each other and waste time, just because my expectation says so.

You see?

It’s stupid, but it’s a dilemma nevertheless. One that causes me confusion and annoyance.

I want to be the cool dame who stays unruffled under any circumstances. But wouldn’t that mean killing the vivaciousness in me? And yet, if that makes life simpler for me, should I refrain from adopting this way of life? What attitude should one choose – the one that makes things easier, or the one that you’re born with?

I don’t know.

“Chalta hai” or “jaise chal raha hai, chalne de” has never been my maxim. I strive for perfection and desire the same from people, whatever their potential. Inspite of that, I see myself now saying things like chhod na / chuck it” or “naseeb / fate”.

People look upon me as intelligent and sensible, someone who gives good advice and shows the right direction even in critical times. People find it easy to share things with me, be it the most outrageous jokes or the deepest of secrets. I feel thankful for it all, for the faith and closeness.

And then, I see myself so lost… In need of a listening ear and caring shoulder…

Not that I don’t have any, but at times they are not the ones I want…

I see others living their shallow, superficial lives and merrily touting it as the best.

And I see myself, unsure, unhappy, unable to understand…

Am I a wreck?

I don’t know…

I just feel so lost…

Would a vacation help - a long sabbatical to someplace I’ve never been to, far away from friends and family? How about cutting and colouring my hair? Maybe a tattoo would do me good… Or a new hobby – swimming, Spanish, salsa? (is it a coincidence they all start with the letter “S”?)

I don’t know.

Over and out.

Besotted with You

I miss you more than words can say,
I wish there was another way;
A way to be in your arms forever,
And watch you as you try to be funny and clever.


I look in your eyes so deep and true,
I try to imagine the dreams they construe;
They say a thousand words as they twinkle,
I read their promises unswerving and fickle.


As I walk around with my hand in yours,
I lose count of the minutes and hours;
I could live my entire life like this,
Knowing that there’s nothing I’d ever miss.


Your thoughts have me sighing all day long,
Not a moment do you leave my mind alone;
I recall and relive every second with you,
With every recollection, everything appears new.


I catch myself imagining our life together,
I look for a sign, fore and nether;
To the angel in you, my soul reaches out,
And I know it’s you, without a doubt.


A thousand what ifs cross my mind,
A million anxieties within me I find;
But when I close my eyes my heart rejoices,
And I know it’s you, amidst all the choices.


Yes, I say, I know it’s you,
This decision, never shall I rue;
Life’s not perfect, no one said it was,
But with you, I know, the bliss won’t pause.


I know I shall smile,
I know there will flights of bile;
I know I’ll sob for you to go away,
But I also know that you shall stay.


I’ll be your mum when you trip on your trail,
I’ll be your best friend when plans fail;
I’ll exult like a wife when things go right,
I’ll be your cheeky partner all through the night.

We’ve both been in love before,
We’ve had our fun and tears galore;
And yet when I see that smile on your face,
I know this time it’s for real, and all fears efface…


If not love, then what is it,
For you, that makes me yearn and posit;
As long as you pledge to be just mine,
I vow, in my sky, you’ll be the only star to shine.

Being a Woman

Let me tell you first and foremost, being a woman ain’t easy...



We know what we want (at least 60% of the times), and we’re equally sure who we want it from. So, if I’m sad and I want Mr. X to come and give me solace, it won’t matter if Mr. W, Y and Z come and put their arms around me and buy me a million gifts and shower me with love, support and care. I am STILL going to miss Mr. X and his consolation. Of course, I am going to appreciate the others, and thank them for their help, but Mr. X, thou art doomed!!


Come to think of it, WHY do guys need to be told what to do? Just like we gauge their needs and understand their desires without them voicing it out loud, why can’t they also do the same? I mean, it wouldn’t hurt to try! There have been a lot of times when the guy himself did not know what he was confused or stressed about, and a girl eased his mind by being sympathetic and kind. We’re all humans, we all have the same range of feelings, and it’s really not that tough if we make an effort to comprehend and assist.


Most women I know would agree that telling/asking for something to be said/done is not quite the same as the thing being said/done instinctively and voluntarily. What’s the use you loving me if you do not grasp the fact that there are times when I just need to be heard and hugged without being shown a hundred ways that are better. I am aware of what I have to do and how, just be calm and empathic, you moron! That’s all I need from you!!

Guys around the world know they’re kids. They either stumble upon this realization by themselves, or they read it in the zillions of magazines and books that talk about gender differences and peculiarities of the sexes. So, whether they agree or not, they very well know that their primary needs are food, sex and sleep. And so do we. And we take care to see that their needs are met. Be it the mum who keeps snacks ready the moment the son comes home from college, or the wife who entertains the man by night despite being dog tired at work all day, or the girlfriend who doesn’t call her sleeping boyfriend for a few hours even though she wants to talk to him desperately.


Why then is it soooo difficult for the men to appreciate us? Why is it impossible for them to anticipate our wants and fulfill them? Why do they find us complicated when all we need is a listening ear and a warm shoulder? How can they expect their stupid jokes to make us laugh when our hearts are weighed down by some misery that we are unsure and unable to express without being asked? You maybe close to me, and you may not require a prologue to talk about your concerns, but I do. And what’s wrong with that?


Let me admit, I expect people who are close to me to know me and the things that please me or tick me off. So, anyone in their right sense of mind wouldn’t ditch me after planning to meet, and anyone who has faced the music after they did something unpleasant wouldn’t do it again. Yet, I want my loved one(s) to know when I’m upset or when something has hurt me. It could be something as small as not messaging me before you sleep, or not telling me when you’re ill or suffering other crises. It could be when you keep repeating the same mistake again and again despite knowing it irritates me. Or that you give others priority over me, when I’m the one whose always there when you’re in trouble. Get what I mean?


So yeah, I have those sort of conditions with people I like and love. I CANNOT love unconditionally. Nope, I cannot. I can’t be ok with every way you treat me and any way you behave with me. If I’m being civil and nice, it’s your obligation to be the same to me. And if that’s something that’s not within your control, then goodbye. And let that goodbye be forever. Not the “here now and gone then” types. The wound needs to heal so that someone else can come and give me the happiness that is not in your power to grant your sweetheart.


Movies like What Women Want are made and watched the world over. And yet men don’t understand that all we need is love. We’re ready to help you in understanding us, just show us that you are devoted and dedicated and (willingly) ready to make that effort. We know people don’t learn things in the womb, but we surely want folks to learn things that would endear them to us. Ask us what we want, if you’re unable to understand. But not before you have tried every other option.


Besides, we're such sentimental fools that we'll never tell you directly what we are thinking. I'm sure you've heard of this one - when we say "we're fine OR it's ok", it means "nothing is fine." And when we say, "just leave me alone OR go away", it indicates that "please don't go, just stay and show me you care." And when someone you know who needs you says "I hate you", it actually stands for "I love you helluva lot, but you hurt me too much".


You see, we want to show we're independent. Yet the fact remains that even the most practical women are emotional at heart. And there's no denying that. We often don't NEED you, but we WANT to be showed that we're loved and cherished.


Awrite so we crib and complain and nag, at times more regularly than sunrise and sunset... and what do you do? Start ignoring us! And how does that help? It only makes us more crabby and depressed. And the vicious cycle continues... Why not try something more constructive and positive?


Our needs are not as simple as sex, nor as tough as a Sudoku puzzle. Sometimes an ice cream can do the trick, at other times, you may have to be a little more tolerant and listen to us as we rant on and on about the boss who yelled at us, or the friend who lost her cat, or the junior who can’t make a decision and needs our advice. You may have to make us feel better by a foot massage or by praising us non-stop for 50 minutes…


Different things work for different people, and for women, the one common need is to be pampered and treated like a child. We’re all little girls within, and if you remember that, you can never go wrong…


Do one tiny thing at the right time to make us smile, and I promise, no woman on earth will disappoint you or turn you away when you seek shelter, estranged by the callous world.

Sincerely,
Barnita

P.S. : Nope, I’ve not fought with or been hurt by any guy. These are some things I’ve always wanted to say (and might have, before, either on my blog or in person). Just thought I’d put them up here for all you guys to read and learn, and for all you girls to share and rejoice about :-) Take care!!

Thank You to You!!

Apparently January 11 is International Thank You Day.

And I know I am late.

Here is my Thank You to you :-)

Vote of thanks was never quite my favorite part of any meeting or conference. One, coz it’s predictable and boring. Two, coz more often than not, I was expected to deliver it. Often at a minute’s notice. Grrr…

But hey, I gotta say it here.

Thank you, ladies and gentlemen!!

“Freebird” is now 17 followers strong, and has 1525+ clicks till date. For a personal blog roughly 4 months old and 28 posts thick, I think it’s a great achievement. For me, and for you…

For staying loyal and interested throughout the times I’ve written about the same old topics, for coming back and checking despite there being no updates, for passing on the word and popularizing my blog… I remain grateful to you all. A million thanks!

I’ve been blog-rolled by many, and quite a few of you have added your name to my followers list. It’s always a pleasure reading the comments you make about the topics and writing style, irrespective of whether you consent or criticize. A vast chunk of you still prefer to be nameless and tiptoe in and out, leaving your footprints on my reader tracker. To all of you, I am indebted.

At times it gets a little scary and burdensome, knowing that there are so many of you out there, reading what I write and passing judgments about me based on what you interpret from my writing.

It freaks me out sometimes that there are people that I personally know and do not know who have more than adequate knowledge about me, my life, my thoughts and attitude.

I won’t deny that I’ve occasionally censored my words and evaluations because I know someone might get offended or shocked by me and my confessions.

And then I wonder whether I really wanted my blog to be this well-known. What started out as a personal diary online, has now become sort of a commercial magazine. And the difficult part is, I don’t know who’s reading it and who’s not!

Not that I mind really. Being a Pisces, seeking attention and reveling in it is an innate trait. Yet, I sometimes want to tone down my description or emotion, just to ensure someone does not fret or lose sleep.

Any time a stranger, colleague or friend tells me that he/she has been reading my blog, I feel a little surprised as if I don’t know what he/she is talking about. I feel pleased that he/she would take the time out to read what I’ve written, and that he/she would care two-pence about my values and experiences. It feels great. And I mean it for every one of you. I honestly do. If you’ve been reading my blog long enough, you know I don’t mince words or tell lies. Thank you once again. It really means a lot to me.

Even if I don’t know who you are, where you’re from. As long as you love me and my blog.

I do apologize for the times and words that have made you feel bad or misjudged. Trust me, the intention was not to hurt any one of you, but to share my perceptions and emotions. If I’ve ever mentioned you in my blog – directly or indirectly – it was because I felt something for you or the incident, not coz I want to ridicule you or tout my brilliance. Of course, confidentiality is vital, and I would never compromise on your faith in me or make you the butt of humiliation by sharing your true identity.

I’m running outta words here… Extraordinary, isn’t it?!! But really. I don’t know what more to say to express my gratitude.

Just a warm thank you and a bear hug to all if you.

Each one of you.

Keep reading.

This blog would be nowhere without your love and appreciation.


I thankfully remain,
Barnita :)

And life goes on...

I cry myself to sleep this night
I don’t know what I’m waiting for,
Seeking peace and a little joy
Neither jewels and luxuries nor.

This day is not the same as I wearily tread,
Till dusk from dawn,
The days of adventure and reckless abandon,
Are so long gone.

Had I been a tad more desperate,
I’d surrender myself to God
I’d have given up on my existence,
No matter if it’s craven or odd...

I know no one’s content,
That nobody leads a life ideal,
But somehow being in my shoes,
The agony is much real.

I appear to have lost all hope,
As wrongdoers bask in fun and bliss,
Things that bother me no end,
Civilization seems to allow this!

As I rant on and crib,
I feel so absurd and frivolous,
I live through days dreary,
And sob through nights delirious.

Don’t get me wrong,
I ain’t complaining;
I’m sharing life with you
And for action or contentment, waiting...

When You Know…

They were the best of friends and lovers. Both of them knew each other inside out. However, she being a girl was extremely sensitive to the smallest of issues and he being the guy could never quite figure out why she got so worked up about seemingly trivial stuff. Fights were plentiful, but they always got back with each other knowing fully well that they could not bear to be apart. There were many times when he went out of his way and nature to accommodate her needs and wishes, and she tried her best to be as calm and flexible as he desired. Time passed, and they went from being buddies to being soul-mates.

A few months ago, she would not have been quite so tolerant. Time and tide can make the hardest of us malleable and patient. Even he, known for being a truant and miscreant at the most opportune moments, had surprised folks who knew him, by being sensitive and determined. They both needed to make this work. And it showed.

It showed when he spoke to her. It showed when he looked at her, a wide naughty grin plastered on his face. It showed when she saw him, often as he returned the gaze. It showed when they walked hand in hand and did not say a word. It showed when they spoke about things informational, emotional and critical. It showed when she spoke about him to others in the family and friend circle. It showed when he held her and refused to let go. It showed when she did the wackiest of things just to make him smile. It showed in a million ways.

First love? No, not for either of them. Love at first sight? Not for her, at least.

She often thought of why and how she had managed to like him in the first place, forget accepting him in her life as a deserving and able partner. He was not perfect in any way and she knew that she wouldn’t recommend him to any other girl for sure. He had done the craziest of things and he had an opinion about everything, frequently based on nothing but stubbornness. What, then, had moved her to believe that it was this guy she wanted to spend her life with? She knew for a fact that there would be tough times ahead. But did that deter her from saying “I do”? She didn’t think so.

After all, she thought she wasn’t as beautiful as his previous girlfriends. She also knew her temper was tough to tackle, and his love for her was true. (How did she know that? She just KNEW.) She knew she felt special and safe with him, and he was trying to be what she wanted him to be. She knew it would take time, and she was willing to give him his fair chance. Why? THAT she didn’t know...

He, too, had his own misgivings about whether things were going the way they ought to be going. Were they really meant to be? Was there being together a mistake or chance? Was their life going to be disastrous once they took their vows? He had so many dreams - what would happen to them once she became a part of his life? Was she really what she showed, or was it all a façade? … Somehow he thought he knew the answers, but that did not relieve the anxiety or resolve the issue.


Yet, he knew that what he felt for her, he had never felt before. Of the many girls who had been with him, he knew that it was she he would miss if things didn’t work out this time. She challenged and annoyed him in myriad ways, but he only loved her all the more for it. The same confidence about her that had attracted him to her also became a pain in the wrong place when she turned against him for some reason (that he thought was mostly silly and unreasonable). And yet… he knew that together they would be ok.

Neither of them wanted it any other way.

Are soul-mates supposed to be perfect for each other? Are they supposed to fill each other’s gaps or are they supposed to fit together in the same mould? Do opposites attract or do birds of a feather flock together? Some answers are not easy, nor are some decisions.

You just have to KNOW what you want… and what you can’t do without…

What would you regret not having in your life… and what would you miss till your last breath…

And once you think about it… you just KNOW…

Do you?

(Note: This is not the story of Marshal and Lily!)

Such is life...

A phonebook and cell memory full of contacts,
But no one to call when you desperately want to speak your heart out.
Such is life...

A million bucks to spend, and no friend to blow it with,
When you had that someone, you were too busy trying to make an extra buck.
Such is life...

At times I think homosexual relations make sense,
The depth of emotions of each gender can only b understood by another of the same kind.
We fight over our differences and keep expecting to be understood.
Such is life…

The very son who dotes on the mother,
Becomes devoted to the wife in days so few.
The mom still prays for him.
Such is life…

You crib about the bad things,
And then you adjust to living in situations worse.
Your optimism and energy disappear with time.
Such is life…

When everything is wrong the smallest thing brings delight,
Something that goes unnoticed in rosier times,
Becomes the single reason to live for.
Such is life…

Good things don’t really happen to good people,
Though we would sure like to believe so.
The wicked and wayward laugh more often.
Such is life…

You smile for the world,
And show you really don’t care.
But you nurture the hurts within you…
This is life...

Happy New Year :)

A rose by any other name…

He loved her.

He loved her not.




He loved her.

He loved her not.




He loved her.

He loved her not.




The petals of the pink rose were quickly diminishing.




Was it a wise idea to gauge the authenticity of his feelings by trusting the number of petals in a flower?




What if one had dropped by itself before he had handed it to her?




Too bad. That’s a chance she would have to take.




He loved her.

He loved her not.




Tweet Tweet… Tweet Tweet SMS…




Blank message.




He said blank messages meant he was thinking of her and missed her.



Of that she had no doubt.

She knew she made a difference to his life.



As had he.




But love?

Now that was a little dubious.



And if she be permitted, scary.




Love hurt, and she’d learnt her lesson not so long ago.




He loved her.

He loved her not.




Tring Tring…




“Hey babes, what you doing?”

“Nothing much. What you up to?”

“I’m missing you. Just thought you should know.”




He loved her.



And she didn’t need rose petals to prove that.

Ordained By Order

Did I tell you I saw Eat, Pray and Love (referred to as EPL henceforth on my blog) directed by Ryan Murphy ? It’s a fantastic movie, guys. I mean girls.

(Guys may or may not like it for the simple reason that the genders think, feel and expect differently. And more often than not, the sexes just LOVE being on opposite sides of the discussion. Sometimes only to prove that they are unlike each other, and can never be like each other. Fair enough reason.)

(Or so I presume.)


While watching EPL, there were so many times when I thought it was somewhere related to Me! Especially the paragraphs when the protagonist feels she has control issues, her tryst with depression and loneliness, her random insights and careless abandon, little joys coupled with frustrating worries and sorrows. Have been thinking of it for ages, but procrastinating… Waiting for a partner, dealing with a busy schedule, stuff like that… Soon soon…


What’s the movie about? It’s the story of a woman who travels Italy, India and Indonesia over the period of a year in order to put back the pieces of her life married and scarred by a divorce and broken relationship. I know it doesn’t sound too innovative, but the narration is superb and mesmerizing.


I’m not gonna recommend it to you, though, coz I have a feeling that I have liked it more than you would. It’s like those movies, you know, where your evaluation of the entertainment quotient is impacted by the reviews you have heard before.

Now that I have introduced EPL, I’d like to take my identification with it

About reasons, and how we may or may not know about their logic or existence.

I always enjoy sitting next to the driver while going for long drives.(But love to drive someday)

Why am I telling you this? To let you know that I like being NOT in control, and leaving all the decisions and responsibility to someone else who is intelligent and capable. Makes me feel pampered and relaxed. Not having to worry about the brakes, traffic, accelerator, clutch, reversing and parking. Just look around at the people and trees zooming past, enjoying the breeze on my face, with my arm strung casually on the window ledge...

However, I’m just as quick to give up my passivity and assume control when required. Leadership roles beckon me, and I love them for granting me the opportunity to prove myself, protect and guide people, take risks and learn, garner praise and envy.

Well, backseat driving is horrible when I’m steering a vehicle, but impossible to give up when I’m sailing on anyone else’s ship. Change lanes, speed up, show off or get cranky – and you’ll hear from me, Mr. Driver.

WHY am I telling you this?

To tell you that I have control issues. Things have almost ALWAYS gone my way. I have made my own decisions, done my own thing and taken care of my own challenges. Be it education, career, relationships, or anything else. And that has naturally made me resistant to being dependent and dominated. In a woman, this is often not appreciated. But hey, that’s how I am. I don’t know about Nature (genetics), but Nurture (environment and experiences) made me that way.

And you know what, I am so glad life turned out the way it did. (Though I didn’t always think this way.)

Thank you, Lord.

Now I think about it all, and I can’t be grateful enough that all these things occurred, with or without my volition. Then, I fought with god, people and circumstances. But now I understand. Things are not always clear at first glance. Things don’t always look right when you’re in the midst of muck. But when you step out and think about it in retrospect, you will realize that things happened for the best.

(Unless you really messed up big time and made a mistake that’s irredeemable.)

Don’t get disoriented and distressed because of the blur. Give the haze time to fade. (But don’t wait so long that all ways to set things right are lost; time is of the essence, remember?)

So what if it’s a cliché? Its true - whatever happens, happens for the best.

And you may not always understand or agree with the reason, but hey… wait and watch, you’ll turn out fine.

Trust me.

Karma Konnection

It’s said that souls are born with human bodies after they commit a given number of good deeds. It’s supposed to be a blessing of the highest order to be born human. And more so, if you’re born in India. Didn’t know that, did you?


Additionally, some people know exactly what they will do/be, either at someone else’s behest or their own vision. So, I see folks who are sure they will be doctors or housewives and nothing else, and I see people who want to travel the world for as long as they live. And it’s lovely to have that knowledge. At least I find it exciting and inspiring.


But I know of other people who would rather discover their calling as they traipse their varied paths. They say knowing beforehand what one is born to do isn’t really motivating. Rather, they’d prefer to experiment and try different things before they freeze on a particular line to pursue as a career/purpose. To explore and identify for themselves their reason for being, as opposed to being born with the erudite information. Or having it thrust upon them, where they have no choice…


Even my schoolmates and peers who knew they wanted to be engineers and accordingly molded their careers in the most apt ways. B.E. then MS abroad followed by jobs and weddings. Life set.


While I was open to checking out the options and then making my selection. So, I thought about going in for Commerce .At least it’s my personal choice and I won’t regret it later. And if I do, I’ll blame nobody but myself.


So, which life is better? The one where you know, or the one where you don’t?


Is it better to meet your soul-mate right in school and stay together for life, or to meet a range of people from all walks of life and then choose your partner?


Is it preferable to work in your family business and go the secure way your ancestors trod, or to go from one company to the next, searching for the job where your heart, growth and interest lies?


Providence makes about 60% of the decision. The rest is upto you. And 40% isn’t peanuts.

I remember I’ve asked mum several times why we’re referred to as masters of our own actions when we really are just slaves to our destiny and past actions. How can we possibly claim that WE did something, wouldn’t it be more apt that LUCK made us do that thing? That it was pre-destined to be done that way? That the Almighty wrote our naseeb – every event and action in it, the moment we were born on this earth?


There are days when everything is just so right. We wake up in the morning feeling cheerful and relaxed for no reason, and we welcome the day with arms wide open. And as we live through the day, our spirits continue to soar high irrespective of the ups and downs we face. There are also days that are just the opposite. We wake up morose, and whatever happens throughout the day only serves to annoy us further and drag us deeper into the dumps. Who do we hold responsible for this? Who do we turn to, to change what is taking place?


Let me know if you know.


Cheers, and good luck with your ambitions!

Washroom chronicles

And this time, here’s a sneak peek into the woman’s private zone…

Are you excited yet?


Well, if you think what’s so great about a woman’s lavatory, think again.

(In fact, if you DO think that there’s nothing special about a woman’s restroom, it’s all the more reason for you to read this post. Brush up on your GK, dude!! Dobara mat poochna!!)


For women, a washroom is not merely a place to freshen up, but an essential part of living… If walls had ears, the restroom walls would have been a part of the Guinness World Records for holding the most secrets…


Women crying.

Women gossiping.

Women sniggering.

Women discussing latest fashion.

Women reminiscing about the good ol’ days.

Women experimenting with new looks and make up.


I haven’t mentioned half the list yet…

Now do you see?


Now, again you would think why I’m sharing all this with you non-members of this private and beautiful zone. Am I not a woman who loves this space? I do, which is why I’m showing you just how important and exciting this place is…

Why else would a woman excuse herself to go to the washroom the minute she steps into a home, restaurant, office or club?

Men don’t do that, do they? At least not the (comparatively) macho ones that I know…


So, women obviously sit on the pot as they chat with their friends and boyfriends, either bitching or whispering sweet nothings.

Or they could be wailing coz someone shouted on them for something that was frivolous (according to them). Maybe a boyfriend giving them grief. Or coz they were feeling unwell and some supervisor acted rude and insensitive. No dearth of reasons to cry – we’re women after all!


The powder room, as it is also called at times, is a must visit for any woman who enters a pub or workplace. (Or anywhere for that matter)

Staring at themselves for hours in the mirror. Curling their already curled (or straightened) hair. Lining their eyes with mascara for the tenth time in 10 minutes. Painting their already shining lips. Peering at marks (both visible and invisible, real and imaginary) on the face and elsewhere. Adjusting accessories or the dupatta or the t-shirt… And once all of this done, staring at themselves from top to bottom again – a quick check to see if everything’s in order.

Being a woman isn’t an easy job, fellas! It’s a lot of hard work…

And I bet you don’t mind when you see the great outcome that steps outta the washroom. Worth the wait, right?

The venue is also a breakout zone for a gang of giggly girls who want to catch up on lost time and updates. Like who’s dating whom, who fought with whom, what’s the masala in the work world and movie world.

I know this is taking it too far, but once I even saw a girl sipping coffee as she chatted up her pals in the washroom! Takes the cake, eh? LOL.


Well, well… Women who are taking offence, pardon me. But I honestly don’t understand the concept of wasting time in the loo. The loo is meant for a particular purpose, one that I often finish in less than a minute. And when I see chics spending a good 15 minute break at work in the loo… It kinda surprises and amuses me.

And we laugh on…

I've got Lal Bal, Pal !

Breaking News!!

I streaked my hair... Had them streaked at a parlour I mean... (It's also called highlighting, for those who don't know.) Which means I now have strands of red hair (not the fire-van red, it's a maroonish kinda tinge,similar to this picture ) on my crown . It ain't done as abundantly as I'd planned, but no sweat - I'm happy! :-)

Waise I am a very simple girl... And I feel all the more frugal when I see women around me dressing up for college everyday. (How will lining and kohl-ing your eyes and painting your lips help you be efficient and effective ) Of course, I tend to go overboard with my minimalism; even for parties, all I do is apply some earthy kajal and I'm all set, even as my gal-buddies blow-dry and iron their hair, paint their barn with foundation and rouge, color their eyes in dazzling blues and pinks, and outline their glossy lips. Whew! Each to their own; I inherited my no-nonsense-no-makeup attitude from my mum. But well, she is an angel to look at, whereas I could do with some help...

Anywaysssssssss...

While the hairdresser was Loreal-ing my tresses, I glanced through the numerous issues of Femina, Filmfare and other mags stacked on the counter. I read Sallu's cool-dude comments on his paintings and his hostility towards Shahrukh, I checked out fashion scares Mithun-da and Sonam Kapoor, and I read gossip about Hrithik and Barbara (Kites), Shahid and Amrita Rao (I thought she was going to get married and happily quit acting), etc.

I set hands on a Woman's Era magazine (November issue, I think), and staring at me out of the front cover were the words - HOW TO GET YOUR MAN TO TALK (or something to that effect.)

For ages I have been pondering over this very subject - why men gel so well and chat for hours with their buddies and colleagues and neighbors and roomies, but recoil every time their wife/girlfriend asks them to "talk" to her.

So, this article seemed God-sent, and I glanced through the words I've murmured a million times : Why men consider monosyllabic replies and grunts as perfect conjugal conversations, why they find nothing wrong in reading the newspaper as their disgruntled lady makes their chai / coffee in the kitchen, why a women's expression of her feelings or need to resolve relationship problems bores and irritates and annoys them, and so on and so forth.


Of course, the article did not answer these queries in anything more than a gender differences way; the usual "genders are wired differently" solution. However, reading the statements there assured me that I am not the only one who broods over these topics. The writer went on to relate how you can get a man to talk... And these ways are : just sit with him quietly (ahem!) and observe/understand as he goes about his tasks and activities, ask him about cars/bikes/politics/sports/gadgets or anything else that he's passionate about, avoid talking about his family, and the sort.


Nothing akin to rocket science, and all quite do-able, but my question is HOW LONG? You can do something a few times, and it's not unnatural to expect that the other person will also go a little out of the way to ease things... Taali ek haath se nahi bajti dost! You can rave on and on about gender differences and not head anywhere, and you can both understand and try to make things wonderful... Not impossible, right?!!

Anywayssss..My sister was looking like a Star on her wedding, everything went well . Most people from my school, college and family circle was happy with the Preparations they gave the Newly- Wed couple there blessings .
Good for them. Not good for me coz I hate these family dos. Compound it with the fact that there are horny old men lurking about and trying to grab a handful of you as they stare at your boobs and talk about stupid things. Grrr... It's all I can do to stop myself from slapping them... And then when some woman comes and starts inquiring about your profession as if she is planning to propose a billion-dollar business deal...

Time out.

Happy weekend!