Dec 10, 2009

The mission is yet to be accomplished......

“Because I am a woman, I must make unusual efforts to succeed. If I fail, no one will say, "She doesn't have what it takes"; they will say, "Women don't have what it takes";”
-Clare Boothe Luce

“Nobody objects to a woman being a good writer or sculptor or geneticist if at the same time she manages to be a good wife, good mother, good looking, good tempered, well groomed and unaggressive.”
-Leslie McIntyre

“I've yet to be on a campus where most women weren't worrying about some aspect of combining marriage, children, and a career. I've yet to find one where many men were worrying about the same thing.”
-Gloria Steinem

As a woman, I try to set some goals in life which I earnestly wish to achieve in due course of time. One of the most important things I have learnt is to master the art of multitasking as beautifully as possible. Perhaps a woman needs to be more physically and mentally adroit than men and any intelligent man would be able to reason with it.

It’s hard to believe that that just a handful of disastrous experiences and some pleasant ones too, in the past three years have helped me to evolve into a woman and come out of the shell of naivety. Everyday, I endeavor to confront the challenges that keep coming my way and muster adequate courage to fight back and enough resilience to spring back to my normal self.

Perhaps the desire to be admired as a good (if not perfect) daughter, sister, friend, and colleague or as a wife or mother in near future drives me crazy sometimes. But in the process, it also encourages me to get rid of those thin streaks of selfishness, laziness or recklessness in me. Every human being craves to be appreciated, if not revered. I am no exception. In the process, I do realize that I am being taken for granted a zillion times, but who cares??? I do realize that I have made my life as mundane and tasteless as it could get because of countless daily errands and that I have made myself as unimportant as it could be, to me. As long as I give myself an opportunity to beam with pride every time my dear ones acknowledge me for the endless efforts I make to keep them happy, I am happy( though I know that very very rarely happens!!!!!).

These are some of the things which I, and for that matter every woman who has ever walked on the earth, would die to hear from their loved ones-
From my father: As a patriarch, my innermost fear is to imagine my family in dire straits when I am gone. But being around, you have always delivered an assurance to me.

From my mother: It takes inexplicable prowess, tenacity, resilience and a tender heart to be a woman. But, I must say, you have nearly perfected the art.

From my elder sister:
I have you as my sister. Evidently, I don’t seek a best friend.
One day, I wish to have a daughter like you.

From my younger sister:
You inspire me, personally and professionally…In every walk of life.
My elder sister is my buddy, my confidante, my mother.

P.S- Since I've completely forgotten how it feels to have the presence of a 'special' person in my life, it would take a while to ponder over what i would be expecting to hear from him!!

Aug 18, 2009

Doodling about life!!!

Denied of other means to reach out to each other,this is what two sisters,seven seas across,do to bring solace to their hearts: they doodle on Yahoo!Messenger...Some preposterous snapshots, although they define my whole world!!!

1.Here, my sister expresses her wish to fly. Obviously, i cannot afford to ask for such a wish, courtesy, my weight!!!

2.This is me, in specs undoubtedly, with my famiy.

3.This is how our dream home used to be then.Who can vouch for such simplicity in these times???

Hmmm....Let's say, it wasn't meant to be???


When for the first time I fell in love, I was still in school. I was deeply, madly in love and this, being my first time, left me in a state of utter confusion. The guy was totally aware of this fact and was enjoying all the attention under the sun. Of course, I had already started dreaming about my life with him ahead without even mustering the courage to ask him about his feelings for me.

His incessant flirting was very flattering but I was too naïve to gauge his intentions behind it. Neither was I astoundingly beautiful nor amongst the popular girls. I was, in fact, avoided by most of all as I was seemingly boring and did not have it in me to woo someone, and most of all, to be carefree like others and enjoy life.

I couldn’t stop blushing whenever he walked past me. I would constantly probe my friend to talk to him about me as all that I had learnt so far in my life was to keep my nose dug in the book for endless hours .On days of his absence ,there used to be a large void deep inside my heart. The guy must have had a gala time watching one of the most sincere, reserved and dedicated student helplessly falling for him. I would call him now and then, on the pretext of birthdays, New Year wishes, so on and so forth and he would always reply with unparalleled rudeness, in monosyllables. I wanted to be around him, to catch his glances whenever possible. This must have went on for a year and I cried hopelessly on our Farewell celebration. During the county party, the whole class XII batch was in a state of complete shock to watch the wild instinct in me as I danced like an animal but I still regret that I couldn’t have a single dance with him.
Of course, my good performance in CBSE boards was my answer to his insensitivity and a slap on his face, which I physically couldn’t implant.

Once I had entered college, my dear friends arranged my date with him. I finally asked him the big question and of course, he gave me a straight answer,” NO”. Surprisingly, I didn’t cry, fret or brood about it and went on with the regular errands the very same day. Obviously, it must have awakened his somnolent male chauvinism and no stone was left unturned by him on spreading a bad word or two about my feelings for him All of a sudden; every teacher’s favorite had become everybody’s butt of jokes as if a Ghissu falling in love with a carefree, not-so-Ghissu guy was breaking news.” Really?? Munmun went ahead and non- chalantly proposed to him??? Oh my god!!! So even she’s that kind of girl!!!” Phew, I fail to decipher what kind of girls aren’t supposed to fall in love.

It has been four years since then and the woman within me still looks forward to confront him and question him on his insensitivity. My eyes dart back and forth at busy metro stations, college fests, shopping malls etc. I would inadvertently mention his name now and then and sometimes even shamelessly enquire about him from common friends. But I guess, I am a responsible adult now and have miles to go before I sleep. Sounds like a cliché but we all learn it the hard way. At least, I did. Of course, I don’t have any grudges against him. I am not endowed with so much of strength to carry such hatred in my heart for someone and yet continue to move on in life. Moreover, I and my closed ones would always shout in unison, “His Loss!! “.Lolz…

Trust me, I don’t hate him for his lack of reciprocation and still respect him for the person he was. He was sweet to me till the day he realized of my feelings for him. I still reminisce about those good old days. After all, things can’t be in your stride all the time. So, wherever you are, if you read this, then I would like to say that I am happy and I wish the same for you. Period.

Jul 18, 2009

Medem, Ticket Part-2


Hey. I am back with more tales of 764.

I have finally deciphered the mystery of the once-famous MONKEY MAN. It is none other than our very own bus conductor. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, our bus conductor!!!!

This gentleman…oops… gentlemonkey springs from one seat to another with great dexterity and never sets his feet on the floor of the bus. He’ll leap over our heads with élan, like a trained circus primate and we all clap in unison, appreciating his skillfulness. Such a technique is very useful when a conductor wishes to manoeuvre his way into a jam-packed bus!!! But beware, he might lose balance as well and thrash your heads badly.

And who can forget about the infamous ‘LOK- SANGEET’, alias the haryanavi geet? In these four years, I have relished (???) such a huge collection of desi hits. Why does Pritam want to get into courtroom hassles by copying International hits? He can easily take inspiration from these ‘dhinchaak’ songs, that too free of cost. Even my special noise- cancellation earphones turn ineffective in front of the blaring, cacophonic haryanavi sangeet.

Another day, I was traveling in 764 when a lady sitting on the seat in front of mine, turned around slightly, craned her neck and spat on my window. I narrowed my eyes, glared at her angrily and the lady glared back. Roughly 10 seconds later, the same thing happened and thus began my ‘spit-o- meter’ counter. The count rose sharply, I lost track of it and the winner came out with flying colours and established a new world record.

Ok, this one’s from my dear friend, Himanshu. He was sitting next to a guy who had just bought a ticket from the conductor. The guy was busy dozing off when the conductor went about his regular patrolling rounds. He shook the guy hard and asked him to show the ticket. The guy obediently opened his bag and Voila!!! The bag contains hundreds and thousands of multicoloured bus tickets… helplessly rummaging through them, the guy called out, “bhaiya, dhoond lo!!.”

This one is completely outdo rest of the haryanavi acts!!! Once I was sitting next to a very talkative aunty. Suddenly, some devotees of Lord Krishna leaped into the bus and started off with some Bhajans. In between, they also threw hints at us to rummage through our wallets for some change. Obviously, there were in a hurry to catch another us for their ‘routine’ work and in turn, they, very cleverly, skipped some of the stanzas of the bhajans . However, our aunty, the finest, truest devotee I have ever come across, interrupted in between, “beta, aap beech ka antra bhool gaye ho…. Use bhi gayo!!!” .Bewildered devotees were fuming with rage and realized that dealing with such aunties is really not a cakewalk!!

Sequels ka zamaana hai….So, watch this space for more fun.

Jun 19, 2009

On a guilt trip...


“A wounded conscience takes more time to heal than a wounded heart”

Human mind is the most complicated machine is the whole universe. I guess, almost half of the dictionary is filled with words which express the way we feel or behave. So many feelings but so less time to express. And amidst all this, the feeling of guilt is the most prevalent of all.

One can probably survive with the feeling of dejection, frustration, agitation or agony. But how can one run away from the feeling of guilt and remorse? Guilt gives us sleepless nights. The whole night, a person would toss and turn contemplating one’s actions or behaviour towards someone just because it wasn’t considered admissible by the other person. Eventually, a ruffled mind becomes a restless pillow.

Guilt creeps in when we say NO to someone asking for help and assistance, even if that person is incessantly clung to us like a parasite. Such people can be of no use to others and vanish into thin air when it’s their turn to offer a helping hand. Guilt arises when we finally summon the courage to give a tongue lashing to a deserving soul, even if the latter must have left no stone unturned to hurl insults and allegations at us in the past. We are guilt-stricken when we count the sacrifices we’ve given or bring up all that we’ve done for someone even if that person shamelessly refuses to offer us acknowledgement and commendations for being at their disposal now and then.

Probably, at some point of time we forget that it is equally vital for us to love ourselves as much as we love others. We refuse to respect ourselves for the fear of people calling us arrogant and egoistic; we refuse to love ourselves for the fear of being considered as self- obsessed and selfish. Something refrains us from appreciating our own virtues and we end up expecting others to make us feel good and realize our worth. Isn’t this actually the guilt of love ourselves too much??

Isn’t it that some people treat you like a book, totally engrossed in you at some point of time but when it’s time for some other important phase of their life, they put you back into the same old dusty corner of the bookshelf?? They would never even spare you a look, let alone brushing the dust off the cover. They would grant you their attention only when they are done with the other whims and fancies or a sudden craving urges them to get back to the good old book. But again, we fail to confront such people because at the end of the day, we love them and the idea of alienating them never crosses our mind. We feel guilty to make them realize what we are to them and that they NEED us, although they may not WANT us anymore.

Aren’t we refraining ourselves from the myriad joys of life because we don’t want to be guilt-stricken on shirking from our responsibilities??

The tragedy of life is not that it ends so soon, but that we wait so long to begin it. So, start afresh and start it now. Love yourself. Appreciate your achievements, however trivial they might be. Nobody can make you feel inferior without your consent. To free us from the expectations of others, to give us back to ourselves, there lies the great, singular power of self-respect. Thus, to begin with, respect yourself for the person you are and with time, people would learn to do the same. And at the end of the day, accept the fact that you cannot carry the whole world on your shoulders.

May 14, 2009

"Medem,ticket!!"


“Ticket, Ticket, Ticket, Ticket…Haanji, Ladshies Savaari, ticket, ticket !!”, shouts the dirty, unkempt bus conductor. Actually, there are almost five to ten conductors at our disposal in 764. They blare at us, keep us entertained about an hour or two, and very pleasingly, enquire about our families even if we try to shun them off.

Thus begins my journey through the rustic villages of Delhi every morning and by the time I reach college, I am already plotting murders very villainously. Hahaha…

Seriously, given a chance, I can devote a whole book on my adventures, rather misadventures of 764.
With only one foot on the board, I am almost hanging in the air, like the famous hanging gardens of Babylon and there goes the cacophony of Mr. Conductor, “ Medem, ( yes, that’s how they address us), ticket le lo” ….” Bhaiya, half ticket de do, abhi hawa mein lakti hun. Iam yet to board the bus!!”

With me, I have my laptop, my five- kilo bag ( if I don’t get a seat, I’ll unload the bag now and here itself.) and some other knick- knacks. I dart towards the ladies’ seat and call out to a Gabru Jawaan types, “ Bhaiya, ladies’ seat.”. Within a fraction of second I hear loud snoring and he peeps from his half-shut eyes if I am still around.

Another day, I asked one more Bhaiya Ji to vacate the seat and pat comes the reply, “ Medem, I have an injury near my waist. Want to see??? “Suddenly, he raises his Kurta up in the air to give me a better view. “ See??See??” …..What an ordeal!!!

Here’s another one: A well-fed Jaat aunty, wearing goggles and her seemingly best friend are enjoying their bus- ride.
Me: Aunty, can you please hold my bag? It’s quite heavy and Dwarka is very far off.”
Well-fed Aunty: Na Ji Na, I won’t. (to her friend) Who knows if she’s carrying a bomb or something? (glares back at me) Why don’t you keep it on the floor?
What I decipher is, aunty has legs of titanium. The bomb would devastate everything but her astoundingly sturdy legs would be intact. Super Aunty!!

This one’s my favorite:
One day, a Gabru jawaan was traveling with his girlfriend. Suddenly, another lady comes in and he had to forcibly get up to let her sit. Fuming with rage, he glared at a thin, fragile north- eastern guy. At the next stop, another lady joined the league. The north- eastern, too thin to withstand even a blow of air, started snoring. The Gabru tilts his head at exactly 110 degrees, with ishtyle, and calls out to the thin north-eastern “Chal uth…Ladiesh seat!! “ …Snoring continued…. The gabru pounced on him, took him by collar and showed him his “ Dhaai kilo ka haath!! “ A frail voice is heard “today is my fast; I cannot stand for too long. Please let me sit.” Some argument took place and the Gabru challenged him ,” Aaja bhidte hain( translated to C’mon, lets have a fight) . The bus stopped, the two guys got down the bus and a virtual boxing arena was formed. People watched wide-eyed, some preferred sleeping to such entertainment, one guy found pleasure in digging his nose. Before it could begin, the thin north- eastern vanished into thin air. Poof!!! The gabru smirked. His girlfriend showed a smug. I sighed with relief. Phew!!
The ordeal continues….Watch this space for more such (mis)adventures.

Mar 1, 2009

Sizzling sizzlers!!!!


“ Oh! how cute! The same old smile !” Recently, one of my friends posted this comment on my orkut pic. What does he know? Is he even aware of my plight as reflected by my forced smile in the pic?

As the story goes, i went along with my sisters and brother to Select City Mall, Saket on a cold december morning filled with christmas fervour and enthusiasm. After hours of window shopping and endless walking, we all were feeling ravenous.
As we entered the food court, my mouth had already started watering . Being indecisive by birth, i was confused over what to choose from the alarmingly long menu. “ Do you need some help?”, called out my angel-like sister. “ Definitely!”
As she walked towards me, she suddenly seemed to have possessed surrealistic wings and Halo,like an angel walking out of my dreams.

Wake up!! The nightmare begins....

“Why don’t you try this?!” She said,pointing towards some apparently tempting sizzlers.” See, it’s very healthy and looks delicious too.”. I nodded in agreement. Why not,after all ,I’m a dutiful and obedient sister. “Ok.i’ll try it.” I said, although,i could smell danger lurking nearby.

Well,the sizzlers looked tempting. But,never judge the book by its cover, they say. As i took a mouthful, i glared at my sister. I suddenly felt like a Sadhu sitting under a banyan tree, enjoying a ‘satvik bhojan’ .” What is it???”, she asked as she raised her eyebrow. “Thats what I’m trying to figure out that what it is exactly!!! “ i howled back.

For a gluttonous and devoted non-vegetarian, a seemingly tasty platter of half-cooked vegetables( God,selectively the ones i hate the most) ,a handful of rice and some paneer chunks( my last resort,although even they were smeared with some incomprehensibly tasting barbecue sauce .) seemed depressing. Although the description might tempt the readers, trust me,the dish couldnt. “you made me gulp down this?” Suddenly,i became nostalgic remembering my regular visits to the local gol-gappe walas. I eyed my younger sister,as she was gorging on some Chinese delicacies. i smiled and she smiled back, a smile that warned secretively,”don’t you dare stare at my plate!”
To uplift my mood, my brother cracked some PJ’s. I glared back,annoyed and irritated. He smiled back sheepishly.
My elder sister,who could no longer suppress her laughter and amused at my predicament, finally volunteered to finish off the “sizzling sizzlers” all by herself. What a brave thing to do, i thought aloud. Suddenly i was mesmerized by the bravery. “Wat a heroic act!!! Bravo!!! Go ahead,win the world,sister!!” I patted her back as she ate spoons after spoons of the sizzling sizzlers.

“Bunty!! Bunty!!” we all cheered for our virtuous sister unanimously.
Finally, her ordeal was over and and she smugged (although she must have been sighing in relief from inside.)
For her award-winning gallantry, we treated her with ice-cream, and we joined in too.

After all this drama and entertainment, we finally rushed out as the audience could no longer bear our presence.

Moral of the story, once again, Ladies and Gentlemen,” Never judge the book by its cover!!!” hahaha.