SIKHS WANT JUSTICE – Does it mean that others don’t?

First things first, I am not getting into the merits or demerits of the case. You all know what has happened and I am sure you possess a fair sense of judgement yourself.  So, Let me just cut to the chase - The judgement reads Sajjan Kumar v. CBI – it does not read Sikhs v. The whole of India.  When justice isn’t delivered everybody gets equally disappointed- Hindu Muslims Sikhs alike. We are all angry.

Then am I or am I not justified to feel bad when the fellow Sikhs feel that they have been disappointed by the rest of us- where as the truth is that I may just be equally disappointed  with the said judgement as is the next Sikh on the line. Because, cliched as it may sound, I am an Indian first and it pains me to see innocent Indians suffer. Then why is it that I  feel my equation with my Sikh friends changing already? Is that it – with all the secularism and unity that we were made to mug in school? That’s it with all the friendships that we developed over the years? Snap! Were our bonds so weak?

How many times have we seen this movie? Where one community is exploited in the name of bias, while the truth remains that irrespective of our religion, faith or belief – WE ARE ALL SUFFERES. Then why is it that we get sucked into this horrific communal politics every time something like this happens? Has past taught us nothing?

Aren’t we all in this together?

Agreed that victims in this case belonged to a particular community but haven’t we all (and I am speaking strictly community wise) at one point or the other  suffered at the hands of governance or the judicial system?

Then why are we treading down the path with the same old cliché  that is communal politics.

My question, here is, that is it wise to inculcate our anger on communal lines? Do we want another 1984 rubbed in our face?

Ever since the Sajjan Kumar verdict came along – most of us took to the social media to voice our grievances – which is fine- however you can’t turn a blind eye to the Sikhs v rest scenario that had become your homepage.

From Ayodhya, to 1984 to Godhara we have come a long way. India has seen a lot and yet somehow emerged through all that with a unique oneness of a sort. I am not saying we are one big happy family – I am not even going to pretend like at times we don’t make someone from another community feel as if they landed straight from some bizzaro world into our perfect lives. We have all done that. But all that harmless humour comes within the bigger parameter that is India and which all in all is a happy place. Don’t let a bunch of morons ruin it for all of us because believe it or not they have only one religion and that is the greed for power and they will go to any extent to quench their thirst.

What happened in the past does not interest me – I am here to build a future. And I don’t want to tread down the same old path of radicalism and communalism mixed with politics. I don’t think that setting the same old examples with fresh victims is the answer.

The answer remains in all of us standing on the same footing minus our religion, faith or communal beliefs and fighting for what is just. Today it’s our Sikh friends seeking justice and tomorrow it will be us and till the time we keep bringing religion into the game – We will only end up wanting but not actually getting justice.

Such Hypcrites We Are!

Wake up and smell the smoke people!

Before it blows up your own ass.

Nine continuous days,(thanks to all the mahila sankirtan samitis) we heard all kinds of songs glorifying women- kind with a zeal unmatched. From Bollywood numbers turned into bhajans -( 'Radhika badnam hui shyam tere liye') to other super duper hit songs to please the Goddesses. 

Finally on the 9th day...

We invited little girls to worship them.

We washed their feet and drank the holy water.

We offered them halwa puri.

We sought their blessings.

Finally we were content - for we had done our part. We, after all, had registered ourselves in the good books of the lord-fearing hindus. We qualified for moksha now. The Goddess is happy!

HOWEVER, I don't think we had even folded the good old dari after the oh-so-glorious and spiritually satisfying Kanjak pujan when in came the news of a five year old who instead of being "worshipped" on the 9th day of Navratras was being brutalizehed in such beastly manner that it sends chills down the spine.

On the same 9TH DAY....

He was raping a little girl

He was inserting bottles and candles into her private parts.

Her external genitals may have been damaged for life, say the surgeons.

She was not fed for three straight days.

Policemen, (who in all certainity came to the chowki after having done their own kanjak pujan at home) were trying their best to ''settle'' the case.

'Be happy, at least she is alive,' they apparently told the family. 

I just have one question - why the whole dog and pony show?

Why all the dikhava when deep down we are so beastly that a beast actually might frown upon on being compared to us, the humans.Why all the big talk on women liberation and all that? When a five year old is not safe in her own surroundings. 

We can go on fasting for 9 days straight - we can sing all the praises- we can do all the pomp and show- But the fact remains that right when we are indulging in all that hypocrisy- there is a five year old whose faith in humanity shall never be restored- let alone the God.

 

 

Ex And The facebook Politics

Why do I do this to myself?

Why do I end up clicking on your name?
Instead I should block you and never look you up again.
Actually, who am I kidding? I keep you blocked all the time.
But come my period and I dig you up from the mine.
Sulkily I unblock you and boy! do I regret it?
Coz there you are with your same usual shit!
Your creepy-colgate-smile with friends you just made?
AND I spend hours playing - Is he or is he not getting laid

You do know that I look up your profile now and then.
Is that why you are all over the place with your "new" friend?

You check in @ Starbucks and post 20 pictures before you check out.

But you still look so dull for all she knows is to pout.
Then there is that picture of you with her annoying little dog.
Which, zoom all you want, still looks like a frog.

Sadist that I am - I hate it when I can't trace any sadness in the corner of your eye.

But while you do all you can to look happy - I don't even have to try.

Why is it that you never show any remorse or regret?
Do you do it on purpose or is it me who loves to fret?
Clearly I am still hurting- while you have moved on?
There's nothing to work with- Our feelings all gone.
But Its not so that I feel like this everyday-- I have trained myself well -never to think of you.
And it's only rarely that my guard does not hold true.

I may still  be clinging to the past...
but I ALSO KNOW that will come a day when this won't last..
The tables will turn and I will have a blast.

Here's Why the need for a facebook censor may be in the offing?

Do not get me wrong. I am all for freedom of expression and all that but its when that expression gives me a depression that I crave for a censor or some sort of a mechanism that could filter idiots right out of the picture (or, in this case, my homepage.)

No, seriously! I mean, don't you at times think that wisdom on facebook sometimes becomes too much to take.

For instance, you can trust facebook to have you believe that IITians have no better work than to write letters to the Gandhi family and then post them on facebook instead of a post office. I mean come on let's give them a little more credit - they are IITians after all - they know better than that.

Then there will always someone with a badass killer attitude. A person who oh-so-intensely believes and makes it a point that you know that he/she does not care about what someone has to say behind their back - because that is where they belong (or, some such nonsense). Dear lord, so much for these redundant lame philosophies - I don't even have to finish reading a status to know where the person is heading.

And what is with the torture for getting likes -
Like it if you washed your hands after you pooped this morning.
I mean how absurd are we willing to be? Here, have a look yourself....

Dear likers (read Losers), you really want your mother to know that you love her - spend a little less time on facebook and a little more time with her and your purpose will be achieved.
But I think in the end it all sums up to the fact , ki ek chote se like ki kimat tum kya jaano blogger babu?


Next is the attayachar in the name of love.... urghhhh....

                AND IS THIS ONE OF THE WAYS?

Every time I look at this picture, I literally feel like throwing up. So fucking fake, it is.
You mean to say a hearty 60 kgs like me has no shot to be treated by a "real" man ... but god if this is how a real man treats a woman... God please send me a coconut (nareal) man... I swear i won't complaint.

But forget whatever that I said before coz, ladies and genetlemen, we have a winner.
(And also the reason why I chose to write an entire post on the need to censor facebook.)

To everyone who laughed at, liked or shared this picture - the joke is on you - because this is how an ideal man should behave -no one else but you are the 'bewakoof' here.

Welcome to a country where a man is branded a 'bewakoof' if he does not stare like a horny pervert at some girls legs. Here he is made a butt of what can only be termed as some cheap roadside humour - only because he is minding his own business oblivious to the fact that there are skimpily clad girls in the vicinity. Welcome to a nation, where a smart fellow is instead supposed to harass the girls.

For here in India it is considered a man's birthright to stare at a girl (more so if she is in short clothes because bhai ye to tangey dikha ri hai). She is asking for it.

Ya ya I know this picture seems to be very funny - but just try and imagine such a situation for real and you might also start to feel the disgust that I am feeling (more so if you are a girl yourself)

This picture, in short, sums up everything that is wrong with the Indian Man... Hell, what man? I have seen hundreds of women liking this picture.. Also, more disturbing than the picture is the number of likes that it has gotten. This shows the disturbing psyche that is embedded so deep down within our system that we fail to see what is even wrong with this picture... In the wake of so many crimes happening against the women.. isn't it time that we retrospected a little - that we reinvented our belief system or at the least got it updated...

Anyhow, it may be just me but I am sorry to say, that a need for some sort of a check on what goes up on facebook is growing stronger by the day.

Every one is facebooking today -Everyone is doing it- it is a much stronger a medium than television or print or for that matter, even other internet portals----- are we just going to sit and watch and be part of something that is becoming dumber and dumber by the day?

A Morning at Sukhna Lake

Tch.. tch.. Did you see Mona Singh’s MMS?

Aww.. look at us, the official torchbearers of everything that is good and pure, ready to dissect the details on this one. Don’t we all look great? Sitting and passing judgements on someone else – as if we just came freshly manufactured from the holy factory of custom made virtues.

How easy it is for us to brand someone a slut or pass on our pearls of wisdom in the name of societal values, “dekho aaj kal ki ladkiyan. Tch. Tch.. what is happening to our society?” Never mind the fact that on the side we were enjoying seeing the MMS so much that within minutes of the MMS going viral it was all over the internet, so much so that Google was generating results for Mona Singh’s MMS even as one typed an innocent  M. 

But who can dare judge us? Right? For, we were safe under the garb of anonymity.

Jury is out if it is actually Mona Singh or not and till then every petty tabloid and website is milking the most out of it. I remember when back in the day Kareena Kapoor was targeted just the same way - or the infamous DPS MMS and since then there has been no looking back - one girl after the other keeps falling prey to such nonsense ever since the multimedia has started reigning our lives.

But that's not even my point,  my point is that Who are we to judge Mona Singh? If at all, we should stand up for her. For as she has maintained it is not even her and HYPOTHETICALLY SPEAKING, even if it is her, in both the cases isn't she the victim. 

A Victim of someone’s mischief or a victim because she trusted someone.

And I know that by saying this I am risking finding a suitable match for myself as per the ‘Indian standard rulebook of marriage’ but it’s not like I am going in the perfect bride hall of fame or anything so I am going to say it anyway – 
"SO WHAT IF IT IS HER? WHAT IS WRONG WITH THAT?"

What a person does or does not within the four walls of their own personal space – should in no way be subjected to public scrutiny –that being said I will stop right here with just one thought in head--- that the girls targeted in such videos are not the culprit – EVEN IF THE VIDEO IS NOT MORPHED- EVEN IF IT IS THEM – culprit is someone else,
culprit is the one who uploaded the video- 

culprit is the one who helped facilitate the circulation of the video –
culprit is the one who morphs such videos (in case of morphed videos)-

culprit is every single person who sat and enjoyed the MMS and then pulled a judgemental face-

So rather than judging the girl – I suggest, we should hope instead that the scoundrels who oh-so-conveniently upload such videos and ruin someone’s career- relationships or mental peace in seconds, come under the hammer - for at the pace that we are willing to sabotage someone's life who knows who could be the next victim of this vicious trap.

I am a Loony Bear

So you know I am sitting on facebook and suddenly I see this party album of a friend who I was pretty tight with up until last year. Actually the word ‘friend’ might be a bit of an overstretch- because our ‘friendship’ began and ended in the last year itself. I am only calling him a friend for the lack of a better word – in reality he was more than an acquaintance but less than a friend.

Now we have sort of drifted apart. It didn’t happen overnight – it happened gradually.  

You know from authoritatively asking me to co-host his birthday bash to silently going on to sending me a facebook invite --- these things don’t happen over night. (because over the last one year, I am assuming he grew tired of  endlessly inviting me to a never-ending list of get togethers which I never showed up for.)

And I am not even blaming him (if at all there is anyone responsible for this it’s me and my knack for detachment from anything and everything under the sky.) Instead, I am sort of thankful to him – he made me realise something today. He made me realise who I am?

After I turned eighteen, my life has been going on in a certain set pattern – which takes place every single year. Now that I am 25 and have seen it for 7 years too long, I can say it with a certain amount of confidence that I know whose pattern my life is following.

It is the pattern of a bear’s life.

Yes, my friends, I sincerely mean it when I say that I am a loony bear in the form of a human being.

Every year, for a certain amount of time, I venture out, eat, drink and make merry but then once I am done I simply slip into my own space. A space- where the door opens only from the inside. And more often than not once I am in it- chances are that the door will remain shut until it’s time for me to go out again.

While I am out of my burrow- I take on the world, I experience, I make mistakes, i usually don’t learn from them, I gain some and I lose some, I mingle, i meet with strangers, I form friendships and have real good fun and just when someone gets used to me I slip back into my shell of nothingness- needless to say just like in this case- my new formed friendships die a slow death. Only if I had a nickel for people I once seemed so close to but now don’t see eye to eye (Boys, girls, cousins, uncles and aunts.. the list is endless.)

People say I am too self involved or accuse me of being overwhelmingly solitary and I usually plead guilty without any counterclaim because I know somewhere deep down it’s actually true.

Now I know why? It’s because I am a loony bear and it’s just the way a bear is. However, in my defence, unlike the bear at least I am available virtually if not three dimensionally (yes, I mean my social media presence). But people just don’t appreciate that.

Anyway, just like a bear - I am happiest when left alone. I LOVE SOLITUDE. Unlike others, a bear doesn’t move about in groups, he can take on the world single-handedly. Whatever group of friends/ family or relatives  that I had around me was until I turned 18.. (which can account  for cub-hood in a bear’s dictionary) Since then I have pretty much been on my own... (with occasional mingling of course) which is again a classic sign that I am a bear wandering alone in the woods--- only socialising when he wants to- not when others want. (Look how brazen I have become?)

But tell me if I am wrong – every single one of the points written below is what I feel and isn’t this what a bear might also say?

ü   I am alone but it’s out of choice not compulsion.

ü  I hibernate- BY DEFAULT.

ü   I have never needed a group of 17 to make my presence felt – I am enough alone.

ü  I seem affable but it’s not really so.

ü  I have been given a certain image and I am too lazy to fight it.

ü  I may be unaccompanied but I am not lonely. 

ü  I am not incredibly pretty or anything yet there are those who like me for who I am.

ü  I am amiable yet distant.

ü  I live and let live and it’s not in my nature to pick up unnecessary fights but if edged the wrong way I can show unprecedented ferocity.

ü  I love honey.

ü  I let be.

What animal do you think you are? Let me know please – I am all ears.

Till then,

A bear hug to all!

Ab to jail mein jana padega

Posham pa bhai Posham pa

Sanju baba ne kya kia?

Pehle AK 56 mangwai

Fir Munna Bhai ki di duhaai

20 saal tak case chla

par Unka career foola fala

Kal supreme court ki judgment aai

Or Unki ek nahi chal paai

Ab to jail mein jana padega

Jail ki roti khani padegi

Jail ka pani peena padega

Ab to jail mein jana hi padega.

As an audience ---- I admire Sanjay Dutt’s work.

As a human being ----- I feel bad for him.

But  it is the lawyer in me that refuses to shut up - 

Don’t do the Crime – If you can’t do the time.

I don't have eyebrows anymore!

I  don’t have eyebrows any more.

I have a unibrow... one thick UNIBROW. I have not had a manicure or a pedicure in 6 months and I can’t remember the last time I went out in a cut sleeve for I have not waxed my arms in a rather long time. You think I’d be disgusted with myself? But on the contrary, I am happy and much at peace.

You know that feeling- right before you are about to step on a weighing machine- the feeling of anticipation that scares the crap out of you! Well, even though I am not sure as to how exactly it happened but I am proud to announce that I have reached that point in life where WEIGHING MACHINES DON’T SCARE ME anymore,  I am a hearty 63 kgs at present and I am not one bit worried. I still do Yoga and am planning to join swimming next month but I am in no rush at all to shed the extra kgs

Recently, I was in Delhi for about three hours- I went to Sarojini Nagar – Picked up an entire summer wardrobe for a sum that would have only accounted for a single pair of jeans in the past- but it felt good to know that I did not spend the last one of my pennies on something as meaningless as clothes- because I have no shame in admitting that I am a classic case of Wardrobe-is-full-but-nothing-to-wear. It was good to know that I did not have to tell myself to stop – it just happened automatically- I went, I shopped and I left-  In the end I did not have to sullenly drag myself out of an expensive store just because I knew that there was no way that I could afford those Jimmy Choos . I just knew that it was time to leave and cater to other things- things far more significant and connected to the real world. Not once, did I wish to shop more and shopping was something that I never got tired of.
I remember going hungry to bed for three nights straight in my hostel once because I had spent all the money that I had on a dress that I have not worn more than three times in last 5 years.

When I went for a haircut a couple of days ago- all I did was to surrender myself to my hair dresser- not a single suggestion, doubt or question from my side and no exaggeration but I saw a look of sheer disbelief in his eyes. This guy has been doing my hair for past four years now – and he has seen me pay more attention to my hair than to my bank statement – I used to drive him insane with so many suggestions that everytime I took an appointment they kept half an hour extra for my never ending suggestions- to say the least, he was simply shocked to see my humble submission.
‘You are the best judge ya,’ I said, sinking in the chair, ‘do whatever you please – Just make sure it’s nothing fancy.’
And there fell his jaw!

I have an outdated phone, a not so fancy laptop, a basic camera (and mind you, these were all top notch models when I bought them first) but I just don’t see the point in updating any of these things because they are serving my purpose just fine and I don't see what's the point in getting involved in that rat race for gadgets.

I have reached a point where these things have started seeming so superficial to me that I’d rather sit home – read, write, eat something sensible, go to bed at a decent hour and wake up at a reasonable time.

I am finally in that place in my life where I can easily focus my attention on things which actually matter. I have been exploring this other side of me – a side that I wasn’t even aware, existed. You know  they say that at times you reach a point when you start to appreciate things on another level – only I never knew that I had another level.

Far from meaningless vanity, I have realised once and for all that not everything has to boil down to a 26 inch waist and 47 kgs weight- to 450 likes/picture-  or to an ex who once broke your heart -to a fancy party in a club-  to how you dress- or who you impress..

Life has sooooooo much more to offer – if only you’d open up to it!

Hell, I am twenty five – and life just got freaking awesome!

Magic of a Birthday Wish

or, from Lakme
or, from someone who you thought did not really know, that it's your birthday,
or, from someone who you thought did not really care that it's your birthday,
or, from someone who had celebrated your first birthday with you/ for you,
or from some one who you know, was even more excited than you to bring in your birthday but dozed off at quarter to twelve,
or, from someone who you have never met,
or, from someone who you secretly wished (but never said it out loud) would wish you,
or, from your favorite teacher,
or, from your childhood crush,
or, from your domestic help,
or from that super-smashing senior who you literally worshipped in school (coz she was so hawt),
or, from a junior you never knew in school,
or, from someone, who called you at eleven thirty and never canceled the call so that they were the first to wish you,
or, from someone who stayed awake at odd hours in a far off land just so as to match the time difference,
or, from Westside,
Or from someone who has not forgotten to wish you on your last 15 birthdays,
or, from someone who wishes to celebrate your next 50 birthdays with you,
or, from someone you once loved,
or, from someone you still love,
or, from a very old friend,
or, from a very new friend,
or, a silent wish from those who remember your birthday but try to convince you that they don't...(Let me tell you something you are not fooling anyone)

And, most importantly, from every single person who took out a couple of seconds for you from their busy busy schedule...

Thank you all !!!
 

Happy Women's Day

I miss blogging

 

Palampur calling!

Someone invited me to a party a couple of days ago.
'Don't worry, there'll be people your age there,' she said, on observing my reluctance to come.

Do not get me wrong the person in question, is indeed one of the sweetest persons I know and I wouldn't have put this on my blog had it been I did not have a point to make.
And my point is that even after she said so - it did not make me feel old at all- I just laughed it off. I was all young and bubbling with energy after all...but something happened last night which shook me to my very core- and flattering it may not sound to me but the truth is that I am getting old.

My bullshit routine seems to have taken a toll on me finally- and that too big time - LAST NIGHT I FAINTED (never in my life have I fainted before)- I mean as a kid when I watched fellow students fainting during the morning assembly and being taken to the first aid room and given glucose or tang - I felt so left out- so much so that I remember pretend fainting in the assembly- just to get the nice special treatment by every one..
But what was I to know that God was all for granting my death-wish.
Serves me right in a way for overdoing and overstretching every ounce of strength that I had left in me for the last one year. Either it was my laptop - if not that then I was reading something - if not that then I was studying my course or, else I was travelling to and fro- and to make matters worse I wasn't working out at all (which, by the way, is the only good habit that I had inculcated in the last five years)- it has been more than 4-5 months that I even went for a jog. (In a way I am surprised at my body for not giving up sooner.)

My folks had been calling me home for quite some time now but there was always one thing or the other for me to do and I kept on postponing it but last night I was in the kitchen preparing dinner and suddenly i felt as though I was experiencing an earth-quake and the next thing I know I am lying flat on the kitchen floor. I had fainted, for crying out loud, and this time for real... needless to say it was a clear cut sign for me to get packing and get the hell out of this urban jungle. 

    Courtesy someone named Disha


There are things (and really really important ones too) that are holding me back even now but there seems nothing more impending than a better state of mind and body - everything else can wait.

So, it's me waving bye bye I guess - It's high time I rejuvenated and got back to nature.

Stay tuned for my stories from the land of lush green hills - where the tea gardens don't seem to end - where the crystal clear water gushes with joy and where the hustling pines tell you a story of their own.

                                                  Courtesy my dear friend Chirag Sood

Courtesy my dear friend Karun Singh Jamwal

                                                     Courtesy my dear friend Google

P.S. - I am going to post a lot of my own pictures once I am there..

Sitting on the shit pot – waiting for something magical to happen!

Tell me something honestly, how many of you can actually picture an American kid going up to his pals and saying, ‘Yo dude! Have you seen the fifth season of kyunki saas bhi kabhi bahu thi ?It’s fucking bitching man!”

Why is it that we can download and watch an entire series of Entourage in one week max but it gives us an instant headache the second we watch a woman decked up like a Christmas tree in main tere anagan ki mitti ki dhool or something to that effect.  Why is it that you feel like vacuuming up that dhool- right that second?

I have a dream of giving India its own tele-series. A series- that, for a change has not been Ctrl-C-ed and Ctrl v-ed  from the west- A series that is brutally authentic- A series, where we give Indian audience some credit and not just try and lull them into believing in a scene where a man is having a conversation with a woman who, forget being in the scene, is not even on the set (all you can see is the back of her head and you can totally tell that it’s not her but yet you are supposed to believe it anyway and episodes after episodes go on like that)-  I wish to create a series where we can’t blame it on the fact that westerners have more money and better effects and blah blah- I mean what special effects did F.R.I.E.N.D.S have for crying out loud and yet it went on to become one of the biggest hits of television history.

I want to create an Indian tele-series that people would not mind losing their sleep to catch a late night episode of or something that they would make space for in their hard disks. Something that the people would show off about – as having seen.  Something that westerners would really want to copy but fail- just like we do when we try and copy their stuff. A character named Karan or Rahul but with the only exception that he is worshiped like Barney -by the audience all over the globe. And may be a facebook page in his name- with millions of followers world wide. That is what I wish to create.

And What I won’t give to be somewhere creative?

But Instead I am stuck here preparing for exams which I have really no interest in clearing – but which the society would have me believe is the right way to go. Never in my life, have I felt so torn up between interests that are so diametrically opposite to one another. I am not saying that clearing an all India Exam is not cool- hell, I am not even saying that given proper time and effort I can’t clear one such exam- what I am saying is that I am certain that even if I end up clearing it- I am not sure if I would stick it out.

Because my heart lies someplace else.

And you may call me all the names in the book but I am still going to call a spade a spade, yes, there are double standards in every household when it comes to girls and boys. It is so difficult for us girls- we are so fucking shackled- why can’t we give up everything and chase our dreams without any emotional baggage whatsoever- why is it that the very thought of proving yourself in this big big world- is considered rebellious and not endearing--- if you are a girl.
My folks like to believe that they are supportive of my wild endeavours- but the truth is that they are not- and the cherry on top is that they don’t even know this. They say they don’t mind my crazy pursuits but the truth is that the limit on crazie-o-meter is already predefined- there is a set limit and you are not allowed to cross that- which anyway negates the sense of freedom in its very essence- the minute a relative or a family friend pops up with a news about Pintu clearing an exam or neha getting married- there goes their whole support down the drain.

After hours and hours of grilling yourself with the Indian Penal Code, Criminal procedure code, Civil procedure code and yet not learning a thing when you finally get up to attend to the nature’s call-with the city supplement of times of India in hand and end up reading Raju Hirani’s interview on how he got to be the most sought after director in the B-town – you just ask yourself this one question- what the fuck are you doing sitting on a pot?

I don’t like her and yet, I want to be like her

Have you ever met someone so confident and comfortable in their skin that it makes you hate the very semblance of traits that God chose to bestow upon you in the name of personality?

If no, I don’t think you should even be here coz I doubt if this blog will ever interest you. (For this post is from a rather ordinary person- who is feeling exceptionally over the top ordinary today.)

If yes, then please do read on and tell me if I am justified to feel this way?

Anahita is one such person who belongs to the above mentioned category and every time she waltzes in a room all poised and smart- brimming with confidence - I can’t help but reel with self loathing. I am not friends with her-in fact, I barely even know her. But every time I look at her I know she has got something that I really-really want. What exactly it is- I am not really sure- she seems to have it all – great looks, lotsa money, numerous friends, great dressing sense, a killer job, twenty thousand pairs of footwear, handbags in all shapes- forms and sizes and sunglasses which I have never seen her repeat. No, No, don’t get me wrong – I don’t adore her- As a matter of fact I try avoid the very situation where I know I may chance upon her and call it paranoia, but I don’t even feel like looking her in the eye because every time I do I get that oh-you-are-so-fucking-ordinary look from her.

And since I don’t know her in person I can’t be too sure but if there was a way to find out- I would really like to know if she does it on purpose (to make me feel small) or that is just how I feel about myself, (which is so-so pathetic). But I don’t think that is the case though because I have seen and been around people who are even more good looking, rich and talented than her but never have I felt such a strong negative vibe from any one of them as I do from her (Well, except for this one VJ chick I knew a couple of years ago and who I don’t wish to name). But again the predicament remains that despite such repulsion its only Anahita who intimidates me.

Whenever I bump into her I get this rather uneasy queasy feeling- a knot sort of a thing in my stomach- I don’t want to be in the same room with her for too long – and even though she is not even looking at me I feel like I am on display.

Of course, in front of her I pretend like I don’t care but inside I couldn’t be more affected.

Again, it’s not that she is all perfect- she has shortcomings too, you know- and how do I know? Because, when I am around her I am on a constant lookout for one- because every time I spot one- it makes me feel better (when I write I become brutally honest- even if that means admitting to my most horrible secrets).

Like for instance...

She seems to be much into her looks.

She is totally oblivious of other people’s feelings.

There is no poise or buoyancy whatsoever every time I catch her off guard.

And most importantly, her condescending aura- well, that is something I hate the most.

But then why is it that despite all this- she affects me the most- so much so that I have blocked her on my fb – so as to avoid seeing her profile- in the people you may know section. (Even though I am sure that in all certainty she won't even be aware of this.)

Does it sound like- I need help? Or, is it normal?

A post at the cost of my right eye!

‘Beta, your eyesight is just fine as of now but if you want it to be this way, I forbid you from even touching your laptop for at least a week,’ said my eye doctor, this afternoon.

And I looked at him as if he had asked me to jump off an airplane minus a parachute. (And to make matters worse I am no Saif Ali Khan from Race 2 either.) Yes, I saw the epic- guilty as charged- and that too when I had a tough time sitting through Les Miserables. Oh dear God, I have shared too much, haven’t I?

Anyhow, back to my news coz I don’t have much time- You must have heard that old saying, ghoda ghaas se dosti kare to khaye kya? But what if the Ghass itself takes a restraining order against the ghoda- What then? Ghaas being my blog and me being the Ghodaa.

Everything was working just fine- until I had a stupid-stupid argument with my brother- and cried my eyes silly- now I can’t as much as look at the laptop screen without squinting- coz it’s paining so much. Tell you something- it is a very secret hush-hush task that I am doing- Writing  this post coz Mom won’t as much as blink once before beheading me, if she knew what am I up to right now. Anyhow I had to- had to do this. Had to tell you all that I am soooooooo sorry I have not been able to reply back to you since last 2-3 Posts but I had my reasons, blinding eye pain being one of them. Anyhow, I may be gone for a while and I wanted to wish you people a happy Valentine’s day in advance.. Lot’s of love to all of you and I’l miss ya.. Please pray that I come back soon.

‘No Laptop – No cellphone- No books,’ ordered my doctor. Well, as far as books are concerned there isn’t much of a problem anyway but the rest oh no.. and the worst part is that I am not even allowed to cry.
Anyway I must stop the rambling – or else, you may say aankh ka to pta nai but dimaag pkka kharab ho gya lagta hai ;-)

(Not posting this on my fb account – for I know if you care enough- you’d end up reaching Stu(Art)

P.S. – Let this serve as a wake up call to all of you- please give your eyes enough rest and don’t take them for granted- I did and if not for a timely check up- I would have ended up a lot worse.

Lots of love yet again’

Stu

Dear Anonymous

Yesterday, my new friend Anonymoys left a comment on my first blog-post on Stu(Art)

Now.. Now.. Anonymous -  Why would you do this to me?

Confused?
Let me explain...

But First things First, let me begin with telling you this that I am relatively new at blogging and every single feedback small or large, is appreciated like a demented zombie by me.
But the unfortunate truth remains that I am not one/tenth as talented as my fellow bloggers and to make matters worse I don't hard-sell either. So even if at times it annoys the crap out of me - I still go on believing that if I am doing good work, sooner or later it will get noticed.
And even though it gives me an immense bout of pleasure every time someone leaves me a comment on my blog - I still choose not to get after people's life to do so, and hence, it does not happen a lot.

(Barring a teeny tiny percentage) Most of the people who tell me that they enjoy my blog - they do so in person- or over the phone- or through a text or on my facebook- or through an occasional email may be

and, to be completely honest, rest of them don't bother at all.

Nobody, including the best of my friends, bothers to go through the whole "tiring-tedious" process and praises my work in the comments section. Hell, I am not just talking about praise - they just don't bother to say anything at all. May be they genuinely don't like it or may be they are just too lazy to bother to write something- anything- but the truth is- that even though they are completely aware of how psyched I get, every time I see a feedback, they still don't do it - not even to make a friend happy -
The reasons as to why they don't post out here could be plenty- they may be super paranoid that if they once comment here they might get lost in a blogger's wonderland and never return to earth safely or may be it is because they find my blog insanely boring. But the point is that THEY simply DON'T CARE.

(I tell you things would have been a lot different if my blog was a picture of a girl pouting her lips to glory.)

But you, Anonymous, you brave-brave soul, you dared to cross all those barricades, pitfalls and traps that I have set on my blog for innocent visitors just like you. And you left me a comment, and a rather meaningful one at that (and still managed to return alive to tell your story).
And not just that You re-affirmed my faith- that my dream of giving India it's own Fantasy- a character, that for a change is not something copied (and poorly so) from the west- is not a total lost cause. You made me smile - you made my day and most importantly, you reminded me that I shouldn't give up.

Now why would you give me so much joy and yet deprive me of the privilege to thank you in person.

So here goes...

Dear Anonymous,
Please don't hide under the garb of anonymity next time - allow me the chance to at least know your name so that when I thank you for your kind words- I shouldn't feel like I am talking to a wall.
Yours sincerely,
Stutee Nag

P.S. Please convey my warm regards to your friend who introduced me to you :-)

India - My Beloved Country

India, my beloved country, where you are adored for speaking toota foota Hindi awwww... but stammer for just as much as a split second while speaking English and you’d be stoned to death.

Here  it’s considered ‘cute’ if you are having a hard time saying ‘Gantantra divas’ but dare to mispronounce Louis Vuitton and you are dead meat. 

India, a land, where I have seen a burger – both being ordered and served in horrible butchered English but try and place your order in decent Hindi and people will look at you as if you forgot to wear your pants, the very people who don't have nimbu-pani for the fear of sounding downmarket but have no issues ordering a Mojito with a 'J'.

Two faces of India!

The Holy Picture 

And .............The Dirty Picture!

Aye Mate! Are You a Dawg sorta fella?

Back in my house hunting days...

‘Uncle, can I keep a dog here?’ I inquired, after rent, security and everything else was settled. 

The landlord looked at me as if I had asked him to transfer all his movable and immovable properties in my name.

One look at his face and my entire brain (including the cerebrum, the cerebellum and the medulla oblongata) started flashing, ‘Ctrl-z Ctrl-z Ctrl-z’

But too late- the damage had already been done- and much to my dismay there was no way to undo it- no option of  ctrl-z at all-Needless to mention, I did not get that house.

And that is how I ended up living here – in my present accommodation and ever since I have gotten here I have wanted to keep a dog, may be a Pug or something. 

Now, let me make one thing clear at the very onset, that even though I decided to get one I really am not a very Pug kinda person- I love Great Danes and St. Bernards as much as the next person but to tell you the truth, I am renting a teeny-tiny 2BHK and with such little space I am not exactly set to entertain a big Dog- I mean my apartment is so pitiably small that a st. Bernard won't so much be able to stretch itself without jamming the neighbor in the eye and unfortunate as it is becoming, neither am I getting paid enough to fancy a tiny little Chihuahua.

So, like it or not, a Pug it is.

Because let’s face it --- a Pug is to us what a Pomeranian was to the generation of the 90’s. – The Poodle of the middle class.

So, it was my super-human search for a cute little hutch wala kutta that first brought me in touch with Mr Gill French Mastiff Kennel

I went in looking for a Pug but what did I know that one look at their dogs and I will be back to square one – Yes, I told you I am not a Pug kinda person- I only had to see their gorgeous French Mastiffs and Rottweilers once, to realize that a sweet little Pug simply does not deserve me.

I am only fit to pet a dog thrice my size- it has always been like that- I have always fancied the butch. The fact that Scooby- Do was my favorite cartoon growing up, stands a testament to the fact that I always had and will admire big burly dogs. So, it didn't really come as a shock to me, when my new found love for pugs died an instant death right that second.

Now can you blame me for changing my mind? Here, have a look...

A French Mastiff Pup

An American Pitbull Pup

St. Bernard Pups

Rottweiler Pups

                                                           A St. Bernard Male

                 

A Seven Month old  French Mastiff Male 

                     

                                                                     A Rottweiler

                                                         And finally - Great Dane!

As should be obvious, I had to return empty handed- because I could not possibly take a dog that size home with me and then sleep in the balcony myself - also I did not want to buy a dog that I did not really cherish- wouldn't have been fair to the poor little chap. Although I do plan to gift someone a pup- sometime soon- and that person is going to be rather surprised too because in all my belief he/she is going to read this post.(Will keep you posted about that as well.)

However,the good news is that  if you don’t have any space issues as such – and you are looking to buy a dog – then  Mr Gill French Mastiff Kennel. may not be a disappointment.

From German Shepherds to Labradors, they cater in many other breeds too. So, unlike me, even if all you want is a Pug- don't feel, you can't visit.

And guess what Stu(art) readers get a 1000 off per pup – all you have to do is share this link.

By the way You can share it just for fun too - I won't mind- I promise ;-)

For further details - Contact Yashan Gill at 09915822267 

I hope this write up brought you one step closer to your favorite dog.

For I may or may not be a Pug kinda person but I definitely am a Dawg sorta fella!

I say Dawg coz it sounds Hawt (Wink- Wink)

oooh (I almost forgot this part) I asked and they checked- They don't keep Ram Singh.