This might make you go 'Oh "God"!'

I don't usually watch too much sport but there is something about World Cups that just draws me towards the t.v. no matter what teams are playing. It's especially interesting when arch rivals are battling each other, like India-Pakistan in Cricket or - like in yesterday's world cup match: England-Germany.

The match was exciting, but even more interesting were the constant Facebook status updates from fans as every goal was scored, especially when the controversial 'ghost goal' by the English was overlooked by the Referee. There was a storm of comments and discussions and arguments and cheering, both on and off line which collectively made great sporting entertainment.

Amid all this hullabaloo, I got thinking why exactly are the English and the Germans rival teams? Okay, so they have a bit of a footballing history, but even beyond football, in regular life, a person of one nationality is likely to treat a person of the other with a certain amount of scorn or disdain, right?. Even though both people have similar physical characteristics and belong to the same continent. This rings true of India-Pakistan too. We're both South Asian countries, our people are usually brown skinned and black haired, we practically used to be ONE nation to start with, yet we tend to hate each other's guts and our relations are heavily colored with prejudice and discord.

Why do we do that so much - divide ourselves like that? Why must we be divided on innumerable criteria, from nationality, color, and religion, to caste, class, and sexual orientation? From 'ranks' at school and college to 'levels of the hierarchy' at work? Why can't we just see each other as people rather than as people who are supposed to be a particular way because they are "___" (fill with any label)

Why do we hate and maim and kill in the name of a supposed God? Why do we assume what someone is like from the way they look or the place they come from? Why do we judge people on the language they speak or the clothes they wear? Why is classification such an integral and automatic process ingrained into our minds?

I recently realized that since coming to India, I've begun to judge people's religion from their names. Earlier, I never used to look at or hear a name and think 'Muslim', 'Hindu', 'Christian' or anything like that, and now it saddens me that my mind has been programmed to do that (coz everyone seems to do it here!) without me even realizing it or being able to control it. It's sick, I believe. I don't really care what faith someone keeps as long as they are a nice person, then why does my mind judge them anyway? Thank God I know nothing about the caste system or then I would probably start guessing people's castes too on meeting them. How totally.... unnecessary, for lack of a better word.

As a rational individual in the modern world, I'm not much into religious beliefs. I do believe in God though and I think He wants us all to get along in peace and harmony, with mutual love and respect of each other so I try my best to do that. I don't think any religion is 'better' or 'truer' than any other and it disturbs me when people flaunt their beliefs on portals like Facebook. Why do people join groups like 'I'm proud to be Muslim' or 'I am Hindu and I am proud to be one'?

Yes, it's their choice what they join and 'like' but still, it puzzles me and leaves me with a deep sense of regret that we are so engrossed in defining ourselves that we don't even realize how in doing so we end up only dividing ourselves and causing friction, disruption and in extreme cases, violence, for no constructive purpose. Do you think your God will be proud and happy if you so much as cause the slightest harm to another person just to prove your loyalty to your own religion? Well, I'm sorry but I think that makes you a total hypocrite because the first thing that ANY religion teaches is to be kind and gentle towards all other people. Yet, we have atrocities like terrorism and communal clashes and religious warfare plaguing our so-called modern existence.

Over the years, terrible deeds have been committed in the name of differences between people, whether it be Slavery or the Holocaust in Germany or the Gujarat riots. We've been gripped by divide and rule policies that continue to tear us apart and breed malice of the worst kind between people and nations alike. Yet, we continue to perpetuate and propagate these very divides that are increasingly threatening to destroy us all. All it'll take is something quite possible like the Taliban gaining access to Pakistan's nuclear weaponry, or India declaring war on Pakistan, and that will be the end of our existence as we know it.

Fortunately, I've noticed there are lots of people out there - mostly young people like me - who shun religion too. They are not religious but spiritual - they realize that God exists but He definitely would not want his people to be so divided as they have been for centuries and centuries. They go deeper into the whole 'common sense' aspect of faith rather than blindly follow whatever is taught or prescribed by elders or texts. If more and more of our generation adopt this kind of open-minded thinking rather than the staunch attitudes that religions prescribe, we may just be able to salvage the world from falling apart due to the complete disunity that has always prevailed among the human race.

I know you're probably wondering how I started out by talking of soccer and ended up posing and pondering over such serious, slightly philosophical issues, and all I can say in answer is that I'm a writer and that's what we do - connect one thing to another to spin a complex web of ideas that may or may not appeal to you, may or may not force you to think about certain things in a different way than what you are used to, may or may not facilitate change at its most basic level - that is, at the thought level of individuals. We have been blessed with brilliant minds that have come up with more than enough wonderful technologies and innovations; it's high time we applied their collective power to address this most basic issue of all - disparity and discord between people which gives rise to such tremendous amounts of conflict without which, we could surely reach heights that we cannot even imagine at the moment because we are too blinded by our prejudices and judgement and rigid notions about each other.

As Professor Dumbledore says in Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire:

"We are only as strong as we are united, as weak as we are divided."

*These are purely my ideas/views. No offense is meant to anyone or their religious beliefs. I completely respect all systems of faith.

What women want. . .

After that last post which was along the lines of the epic, never-ending 'battle of the sexes', this time BlogAdda has prompted me to write about what women want. It's for a contest in association with Pringoo. Click here for details.

"What do women want?" is too general a question and not really a million dollar one like it's commonly believed to be. I am no authority to pass judgement for the entire gender that I belong to. And neither is anyone else, for that matter, because every person is an individual and wants different things. However, there are SOME things that I can safely say most women want:

We want love. Show us you care. No, not by materialistic things, but simply by being there for us, by calling us just to ask how we're doing, by patiently listening when we need to talk, by understanding our point of view in an argument rather than losing your temper and fuelling the battle. Of course, chocolates and thoughtful little gifts now and then don't hurt. :P But, please don't be insensitive and gift us a giant box of Kit-Kats when you know we're on a diet.

We want truth. I can't stress this enough. Read carefully: Please. Just. Be. Honest. But do it tactfully. If a dress looks awful on us, tell us so but suggest something that will look better rather than just stand there pointing out how we've put on weight or got stretchmarks or look older than our age or whatever. Be honest from Day 1. Don't lead us on. Don't make us fall for you if you have no intention of catching us. Don't say you'll call if you're not going to. Most importantly, don't hit us on if you're already in love with someone else. Treating us as second fiddle or as a crutch to get over someone else is lame. And hurtful too. Be a man; be upfront. Not a sissy who says one thing and does another.

We want space. And freedom. Just because we may be your girlfriend/wife, don't expect us to be at your beck and call, anytime, anywhere. We need our own time, to do whatever we want. And we have the right to take our own decisions. Yes, without even consulting you if we don't want to. it doesn't mean we love you any less; it just means we don't need to share every detail of our life with you all the time. Just like you need beer and guys' nights in front of the t.v., we need bubble baths and girls' nights out.

We want understanding, compassion, and consideration. Please remember our birthday without relying on Facebook to remind you. We want respect. Not only for ourselves but our entire gender. Do not treat us like sex objects even if we are really hot and dressed to kill. Do not compare us to other girls, ESPECIALLY not your ex. Hold our gaze when you talk to us. Compliment us, but only if you mean it. Faking things is lame. Do not keep trying to make us laugh; some serious talk is good too.

We want you to have a purpose in life. But we want you to have a fun side too. We want you to take care of your appearance. Kindly shave, or maintain a proper beard rather than a disgusting unruly growth. Shower everyday - toiletries are not too expensive! Smell good, please. Do NOT burp or fart in public. And keep your language clean.

Old fashioned chivalry is good. Chauvinism is not. Kindly get a dictionary and learn the difference between the two. Don't act smarter than you are. Don't throw around your attitude.

We want you to be interesting, intelligent, well-groomed, respectful, polite men. We want you to treat us like interesting, intelligent, well-groomed, respectful, polite women. We want you to be the person that YOU are, not a wannabe Tom Cruise or Shahrukh Khan or any other guy you falsely believe women drool over. Yes, we may drool over them, but we're not going to drool over you if you try to imitate them like a stupid desperado.

You may think that's a lot that we want. But take a moment to reconsider and you'll see that it's pretty much common sense, really. Nothing that you need to watch a movie or read a book or consult any kind of expert to understand.

Great. Now, can someone please tell me what in God's name do men want? (And please don't reply: 'sex'. That's terribly clichéd. I'm sure there is more to guys than that. I just wish I knew what!)

Why I'm Happier Being Woman

Time for another blog post inspired from an email forward. (I think I read too many forwards these days - too much procrastination of work!) This one was titled 'Why men are never depressed' and you can read it here to know some reasons why men supposedly, have nothing to worry about ever. Reading it sparked off a million ideas in my mind why women are happy too, even if we do get depressed now and then.

Disclaimer: This post is in no way intended to hurt the sentiments or cause any other disrespect to the men who read it. It's all in a light vein so hopefully I won't be getting any hate mail. :P

A point to note is that I think a lot of our depression(s) are directly or indirectly caused by men. Either we are subjected to some kind of abuse or you break our heart or just plain treat us horribly which leads to us being sad and weepy. Cartoonist Nicole Hollander has said:

"Can you imagine a world without men? No crime and lots of happy fat women."

It's a tad extreme, but you can't deny it has an element of truth in it. :P

For centuries, men have been responsible for oppressing, suppressing, dominating and victimising us. We have been subjugated to societal adversities since time immemorial, yet we have not only survived but have grown from strength to strength and continue to. Because we women are just strong people – not physically, perhaps, but emotionally, mentally, and spiritually. We are stronger than men in these areas that matter more than just plain brute force. There have been circumstances in my life when I momentarily wished I'd been born male instead of female, but when it really comes down to it, I am much happier being woman because:

To start with, we always appreciate the small things – that sweet text message, the way someone smiles at us, a shared bar of chocolate, even a good night’s beauty sleep. We make a big deal out of simple things which is good because it’s often the simple things that count. We never forget birthdays or anniversaries or other days that matter, and we don't hesitate to go out of our way to bring someone cheer. We know how to calm a crying baby and we know how to nurse a wound. We can cook up something yummy even if we don’t know much about recipes and we have all the little niceties – like making someone feel welcome and saying 'please' and 'thank you' - primly in place.

We can use our charm to get you to do almost anything for us. We are allowed to be vain and narcissistic. We can take an hour long bath and spend on designer perfumes and pretty clothes. We can own 20 pairs of shoes and not have to explain ourselves. We are good at listening to problems, even if we don’t always have solutions. We know how to make someone feel better, even if it’s just by giving a warm hug.

We call when we say we will, and we don’t blow people off. We are an open book when something is wrong with us – it’s your fault if you’re too slow and don't understand and constantly need us to spell everything out for you. We don’t ogle at every hot guy that passes by, and we don’t flirt to live. We don’t grow ugly facial hair that needs to be tamed almost every day. And we certainly don’t have unsightly hairy arms and legs. We care for our bodies and we always look good, sometimes even just after waking up.

We get to use lovely-smelling shampoos and lotions and cosmetics, and we get attention wherever we go. We can learn to do anything we put our mind to, whether it be something small like how to change a bulb, or something big, like repairing our own car. we know how to ask for help, and how to make sure we get it. We are not embarrassed to admit it when we don’t know something or when we are scared. We can change our look in a jiffy whenever we feel like it – makes life more interesting. And we can choose what we want to come across as to the world by picking just the right kind of outfit.

We are careful about people’s feelings, and we always lend an ear or a shoulder when needed. You can count on us. When we say we miss you, we really do; when we say we love you, we truly mean it. We look after someone when they are sick, and we know how to pick just the right gifts for everyone.

We can tell original labels from overpriced fakes, and we can hunt out bargains and save money! We can cry in front of our friends, and we can substitute sex with chocolate!

We don't have to face the embarrassment of getting erections in public and we don't have to worry about how big we are. We don’t tease each other if we can’t get laid and we have more things to think and talk about than just sex. We don’t judge and classify people based on their looks, and we fall in love with personality, provided you have an interesting one. (How do you think not-so-good-looking guys manage to land super hot ladies?)

We can be into stereotypically 'boyish' things like fast cars and beer and adventure sports and we earn appreciation for it. We can do almost anything a guy does, except perhaps walk around without a shirt in public. But men, there is something we can do which you simply cannot -give birth to another life. And with emerging technology, we can do it even without your sperm.

Basically, we can rule the world, and when we do, it will evolve to a much better state than it is in now. Because we are against violence and war and weapons of mass destruction, and we are not selfish or power-hungry or self-centered like the male rulers have typically been. You won’t find an Adolf Hitler among us, or a George W. Bush or a Bin Laden. We have the best of both worlds – our own nurturing qualities and your leadership ones, just minus the massive egos and aggressive tendencies.

No wonder we survive despite everything we go through.

And no wonder, I am happier being woman, even if men are out there to depress me. :P

(P.S. to the men: Kindly refer to the Disclaimer above once again.)

Love, Pain, Life.

"All we really want is love's confusing joy."

(-Maulana Jalaluddin Rumi)

There's a column in my favorite newspaper (Ahmedabad Mirror) that appears every Monday, called Message Parlor. I know that's a pretty cheesy name and the content is quite cheesy too - mushy messages from people to their loved ones. Messages which range from being direct lifts from popular SMS forwards and sentimental shayaris, to heartfelt words confessing or professing love, seeking forgiveness, or just plain wishing someone on a special day. But despite that, I still enjoy reading it if I have time because I usually find a couple of creatively-stringed-together words which I then note down in my cell just because I like them so much. I guess it's just one of those 'being a writer' things which I can't quite explain.

Anyways, what I've noticed since I started paying more attention to the column a few weeks back, is that almost every time, there are at least one or two messages from someone who is apologising to a loved one for hurting them. This reinforces an old Spanish proverb which is obvious to most of us:

"Where there is love, there is pain".

The pain may be occasional or it may be continuous, it may be slight or intense, it may be pardonable or unbearable, but definitely, every one of us has suffered at one point or another at the hands of someone we deeply love. It doesn't matter whether the person loves us back or not, what matters is how we give ourselves so completely to them that it's impossible to return to being the same person we were before we loved.

We give the person our everything - our most precious treasures - namely, our strength, our courage, our loyalty, our faith, our hope, our confidence, our ego, sometimes even our self-respect. We surrender our very spirit and soul to them, albeit unconsciously and without expecting anything in return but still trusting that they will care for and protect our virtues. Yet, more often than not, what happens is that the person doesn't so much as notice all that we've given them, never mind respect and guard it. They callously use our own greatest strengths against us and hurt us in irreversible ways, devastating ways, crippling ways.

They ruthlessly attack us when we've let down our guard and given up our innate defenses to them, when we are at our most vulnerable, our most fragile states of being. We end up like the toy that is pulled apart and mutilated by the very child it sought to please.

Why do they destroy us so, the people we love with everything we have? Why are they so ignorant, so aloof, so unaffected to our suffering, our devastation?

And worse, why don't we stop loving them? No matter how debilitating our pain, we still can't not love the person. We may 'move on', and we may 'get over' it, yet deep down inside, we continue to ache for them, at least a little bit. We may not love them wholeheartedly forever, but a small part of us definitely does. And we never really stop caring for them, we just strive to stop SHOWING how much we do.

"Often it is the most deserving people who cannot help loving those who destroy them."

(-Hermann Hesse)

Nor do we learn lessons not to love that way again. We may become weary and more cautious of people, and we may take time to open up to others, but eventually, we end up surrendering ourselves to love in the same way all over again.

Despite terrible experiences that leave lifelong emotional scars, we still love again, sooner or later. Perhaps it is a show of the resilience of the indomitable spirit of our soul, or perhaps it is just a basic human need to find love no matter what, but whatever happens, we give ourselves to another person again, even at the risk of ending up vanquished by the storm that love is sure to stir up in our lives, one way or another.

“Love is like the truth, sometimes it prevails, sometimes it hurts.”

(-Victor M. Garcia Jr.)

Why we love someone is a debatable question - one with no clear cut answers - and why we invariably hurt those who love us, is yet more complicated. But the truth is that love is integral to our survival. It is a universal language, it is something no human being can escape, whether he is good or evil, young or old, fit or ailing, beautiful or not so much, civilian or outlaw, religious or atheist, loving or hateful. For hate too, stems from love itself. Without one, the other cannot exist.

However, it's good to remember that:

"Hate leaves ugly scars; love leaves beautiful ones."

(-Mignon McLaughlin)

Just 5 Questions

What would you do when:

1. A loved one gives up all hope in life just because of a minor illness and no matter what you say, they continue to brood and anticipate death before their time?

2. The same person tries to emotionally blackmail you to do things you hate, just to please them, irrationally predicting that they'll soon be no more?

3. You're stuck between either picking the road to your dreams and your happiness or pleasing your parents through embracing the life they see fit for you?

4. You have trouble falling asleep at night because you're too restless with worry and anxiety about the person mentioned in point 1 and 2 above and too confused over the dilemma in point 3? And you have trouble rising in the morning because you dread another day of dealing with life's complicated predicaments?

5. Despite having many wonderful. caring friends, you can never quite find the words to discuss your problems with them? And you feel lonely and low because you're the only one who seems stuck in a rut while everyone else advances fast towards their ambitions, their 'futures', their destinies?

What would you do? This is not a scribble; it is a questionnaire. There are just 5 questions. I never said they would be simple.

Please tell me.

What would you do?

Why I Will Never Have a Boyfriend

A while back I wrote a post titled 'Why I Don't Have a Boyfriend' and it received a lot more response than my posts usually do, perhaps because it was very candid and a little funny too. I'd mentioned that I would follow it up with 'Why I Will Never Have a Boyfriend', so here goes. On the previous post, someone commented that parts of it sounded like a matrimonial ad; let me warn you that this one is going to sound even more like one. :P

So, I will never have a boyfriend (and perhaps never marry either) because:

1. Even if some guy is smart (or stupid) enough to want to be with me, I could single-handedly ruin things in just a day by my general cluelessness when it comes to relationships. Frankly, I just wouldn't know how to behave or what to do - I would either:

-Be so hyper that I would text him my entire month's quota of free messages in just a day (no doubt asking him as many questions as I can to get to know him better. -'Cause obviously, if he's my boyfriend, I would want to know EVERYTHING and more about him, from what he thinks of the current economic recession to which was his favorite cartoon as a kid and what cologne he likes to wear. Yes, I am a little obsessive; finally caught on, have you?)

OR (and this is the most likely of the two scenarios):

-I would be so completely shy that I would just keep my mouth shut to prevent embarrassing myself by saying something stupid, which I seem to have a natural talent for, especially when in company of the opposite sex.

Also, I think I'm slightly bipolar so obviously, that would drive anyone crazy and scare them off.(If you don't know what bipolar disorder is - like I always say - Google it. (I promote Google so much they should pay me for it, really.)

2. As a die-hard romantic who smiles and drifts off into daydreams at the mere thought of being in a relationship, I am sure I would be all head-over-heels loony if a nice guy asked me out. In this state of elation, I'm very likely to get myself into mortifying situations, even if I do keep my mouth shut and don't say anything stupid. I'll DO stupid things instead, like for example, drift off looking into his eyes when he is trying to talk to me. I do this a lot - I can't help it if eyes have a hypnotic effect on me, o.k.! This means that I'll end up not really listening to what he's saying, though I WILL listen to his voice, I just won't grasp the words - and this is bound to annoy him and give him the idea that I'm not interested, when in fact, I am, a hell lot, even if he's only talking about the weather. How am I supposed to explain to him that looking into his eyes makes me all dreamy and woozy headed? He'll definitely think I'm psycho even if I attempt to give a rational explanation. So, see, no matter what I do, I'm bound to make a total fool of myself and consequently be dumped. And that's just ONE example I've given; there are plenty more which I shall refrain from writing here, thankyouverymuch.

3. Despite my insatiable craze of wanting to know people, I don't like revealing too much of myself to them. Maybe that's a bit hypocritical but every person has some kind of hypocrisy trapped within them, so this is mine. I'm just very private and don't like to share too many details of my life with anyone.Naturally, I would tell this hypothetical boyfriend anything he wanted to know, but if he got too pestering, I would retreat into my shell and totally blow him off. Which is sure to make him think I'm not interested even when I am and then he'll just 'move on'. Like in the Fastrack ads. (have you seen those ads? - Fun stuff!) And I'll be left writing sad poetry in his honor which he will never even read (or understand).

4. In addition to being private, I have major issues with personal space. I can't tolerate standing/sitting too close to someone and I don't like to be touched. Yeah, you can go and psychoanalyse that (even if you have no clue who Freud was) but I don't care - I just have a larger personal space radius than most people, and obviously, this is bound to spell disaster if I ever get into a relationship. I mean, even if I would like to be kissed/hugged, I can't quite shake off the worry that I'd be uncomfortable with the physical aspect of a relationship. Worse than that, even if I did get used to being physically close with someone, one of my most embarrassing secrets is that I am really, REALLY ticklish. Merely a touch can make me slink away and break into uncontrollable giggles. Also, if a guy tried to kiss me, I'm quite sure I would pass out in the sheer excitement of anticipation. Yes, laugh all you want, it's not my fault that I have hyperactive body responses to the smallest of things. I wonder if there is something wrong with me, seriously...

5. I am just WAY too self-conscious. How would I ever relax around someone if I'm constantly obsessing about whether I smell good or whether there's something stuck in my teeth or if he notices the faint hair growth on my upper-lip or whether he thinks I'm too fat or notices the freckles on my face or whether he finds it freaky that bright turquoise veins show through my skin and the slightest of blemishes and imperfections stand out on it, or any other minor thing that I know is unimportant but I still can't stop worrying about.

6. As much as I hate to admit it, I am quite an insecure person when it comes to relationships. I get jealous easily and have complete knee jerk reactions when I feel that something is not quite right. Without even giving the other person the benefit of doubt, I tend to jump to conclusions and feel threatened that they don't like me or are going to leave me. There are perfectly rational psychological reasons behind this but I do know that it's a terrible trait to have - it's my one most pronounced negative quality (By the way, is the phrase 'negative quality' an oxymoron? It just struck me...) - and I'm working on it, honest. I just need a lot of reassurances from people, which I'm sure my hypothetical boyfriend will get fed up of sooner or later and want out, hence making the relationship crash land before quite taking off.

7. Next comes another one of my unique quirks - my deep rooted affinity to Bollywood movies, especially of the romance genre and the Yash Raj banner. Over the years, I have observed that guys usually don’t like these films – they prefer action and they prefer Hollywood action, which I can’t sit through for the life of me. Honestly, I would rather sleep (or pen my own stories) than watch something like Star Trek or X Men or Terminator or any of those other blockbusters which earn billions of dollars when they don't even make much sense. Of course, I would do it for the hypothetical boyfriend now and then, but still, I’m sure my torrid, never-ending love affair with Bollywood would drive him up the wall.(and off it too. :P)

Add to this my love of all things cheesy – such as dancing in the rain to songs like Tum se hifrom Jab We Met, taking long walks holding hands, sharing the same cup of ice cream and writing poetry for each other – and he is guaranteed to run quicker still.

8. To make matters worse (yes, they get worse!), I tend to be oversensitive about the opinions of people I care about. This means that I wouldn't be able to stand it if hypothetical boyfriend tells me off for something or if he doesn't like something that I write or wear or say, or if he plain and simple loses his temper with me. Since forever, I’ve let a lot of people walk all over me and vent their anger on me so I would never want my special guy to do the same. It would totally shatter whatever’s left of my poor heart. So i would always, always just want love and care from him, and to be honest, would like to sometimes be treated like a kid, which is asking for too much of course, because I’m almost twenty three years old and definitely not a kid.

9. I love my freedom. I wouldn't compromise on any of my likes and dislikes, desires or dreams. I have a great need to be independent and I HATE having to do something I don't want to. All my life, I've lived according to what my parents said, or what my teachers expected, or what I'd been raised to believe was 'right', but now at 22, all I want is freedom to do what I and only I want. I would hate having to seek my boyfriend's approval for anything - whether it be what I wear or what I eat/drink or whom I chat to at midnight.

This means, that if the hypothetical boyfriend wanted me to try a nice dessert of strawberries and cream, I would refuse because I hate strawberries and all other fruit and then I don't care if he gets offended. I won't eat something that I don't like. If he wants to go out when all I want to do is fall asleep, sorry, but I will choose to sleep, because I am me and I can do what I want. I would not wear makeup to look like someone I'm not just to please him. Neither would I go on a diet to look 'sexy' for his sake. Of course, this holds true both ways. I would never expect him to do anything he doesn't like either, but I'm sure this obsession with individuality would affect the relationship sooner or later because without compromise, two people cannot stick together.

Like Tibby from The Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants 2: 'I suck at relationships. I should have been a guy.'

The response to this by her friend Lena was: 'Nah, a guy wouldn't worry about sucking at relationships.'

10. And lastly, I am an eccentric artist. I can get moody, and I can get irritable, especially when I hit writers' block.. I like being alone from time to time and I NEED to be alone when I write. I hate being disturbed when I’m working on something (even if it's just a blog post) and I can't stand the thought of some of the habits people in relationships tend to adopt. For example, long phone conversations bore me to death, or sleep rather, and I just can't do it, not even with someone who is incredibly charming and has a sexy voice. I also hate extravagance and going to posh restaurants. I would rather eat delicious vadapav on the street and drink that sweet, 3-Rupees-a-cup chai you get in a little disposable glass. I also don't like gifts, especially girly things like soft toys and jewelery. I would much rather just receive a card, or, if I must get a gift, nothing beats a good book.

I’m sure that this eccentricity would contribute towards irritating the hypothetical boyfriend who is sure to think that I’m just uncooperative, even when I’m not.

I suspect that just like it's God's wish that I be chubby when I hardly eat that much, it's His divine intervention that stops me from getting a boyfriend too. 'Coz otherwise, He wouldn't have made me such an absolute guy-repellent!

And as if things weren't already bad enough, now I've gone and announced to the world all about my niggling little traits that are sure to be pet peeves of hypothetical boyfriends, hence ruining even the slimmest of chances that I did have to attract someone nice. Sighhh....

But to end on a positive note (I have a new positivity mantra not to write anything sad/depressing/mopey on my blog for a while), I'll quote this inspiring dialog from my favorite Hollywood movie ever, He's Just Not That Into You:

"Never try to turn your own bends and someday, you will meet a wonderful guy and get your very own happy ending."

And so, I await that day, and that wonderful guy. :)

P.S. I know some of the points sort of contradict/conflict with each other, but we are all full of contradictions and complexities, aren't we?

♥ My First Crush ♥

This post has been written for a BlogAdda contest. Details of the contest can be found here.

Fifth Grade: A new school, a scared me, a small class, no friends.

Yet, I loved waking up everyday to a typical cloudy Nairobi morning and heading off to school despite my innate, deep rooted dislike of it.

For I was in love, and what can be more important to someone in love than the sight of their beloved? Breathing, walking, talking, living! Amazing in the biggest and smallest of ways!

His name I shall not say but it is a beautiful name, the first name I remember considering a 'favorite' one. Google tells me that it means 'a person with inestimable value and importance' and that is exactly what he was to my ten-year-old self. Even if he wasn't conventionally 'cute' or 'good looking', he was the only one I had eyes for. I loved the sound of his voice and the way he spoke so clearly, articulating each word just right. And I loved how he was so smart - the smartest boy in the class - while I was one of the smartest girls. It's like we were made for each other. Well, at least I liked to think so. :)

He was the inspiration behind the first proper story I remember writing (incredibly cheesy!), and he was the motivation behind studying extra hard for tests. Because I knew he admired my grades - we were neck and neck in most subjects - forever trying to out do each other, silently competing for every extra mark we could garner.

Sometimes I won, sometimes he, and sometimes we drew. But then came seventh grade and introduced the horrifying subject of Physics, which I just COULD NOT understand, no matter what. So naturally, he won every time when it came to that particular science, and I loved to see him all happy and gloating, proud of his achievements while I struggled hopelessly to get my concepts straight.

I adored watching him at work during the practical sessions, effortlessly connecting circuits and making bulbs light like magic and peering keenly at Ammeter and Voltmeter readings through his newly acquired spectacles, which made him look - if it were possible - even cuter, even smarter than before.

It was during those dull, boring morning classes that I first realized the truth of some of those Hindi film dialogs and lyrics - "in love, even when you lose, there is something indescribably winning about it." - Haar main bhi jeet chupi hui hoti hai.

Yet, despite our fierce academic competition with each other, we never so much as had a proper conversation anytime. All he ever asked me was my marks on tests, and the closest I ever got to KNOWING him was through mastering the art of reading his facial expressions which varied depending on what answer I gave him. He did control his joy and conceal his defeat well, but I could see right through him.

My memories of school are lavishly dotted with recollections of him - I remember once in a ninth grade Chemistry experiment, he overheated something by mistake and there was a big scare as a loud crack echoed across the lab and the substance in his porcelain dish caught fire. And once, in French class we were divided into groups and had to demonstrate a recipe for a sandwich of our choice to the rest of the class; I don't even remember which sandwich I prepared or any other group prepared, but I still remember every detail of the one that he did. It even had a pickle in it. (Which is eww - I hate pickles!)

Outside of class, he was a star Cricket player on the school team - and needless to say, he looked adorable in his Cricket whites. It's him who first made me aware of the universal fact that guys - no matter what their age, color, or build, look irresistible in white.

Despite me being totally gaga over him for years, nobody ever so much as suspected what was brewing in my heart. In fact, I was 'teased' (not sure if this is the right word) with one of his best friends, but somehow my feelings never changed. They faded perhaps, but to date, some small scrap of that first experience of the overwhelming, wondrous thrill of love continues to linger.

He moved to another country when we were in tenth grade, and I'd thought that I would never hear of him again - which had made me quite sad and teary, to be honest - but then, the Facebook revolution came to my rescue a few years back and he ended up on my friends' list, like so many other old classmates I never speak to. I have never messaged him, not so much as a 'hi', and I don't ever intend to, but I can't seem to help myself from checking out his profile now and then, looking at his photos, reading his updates, and smiling to myself at the strange realisation how people can be so significant to our lives without having the vaguest inkling of it.

I do wish him on his birthday, though, every single year, but he never replies, no doubt missing my wall post within the hundreds that one tends to receive on their birthday.

For some reason, I've never told anyone about this first crush of mine - not even my best friends - I just felt it was something really private, better kept to myself, but my blog has even my innermost sentiments and thoughts recorded, so I couldn't resist writing this post when I saw the contest announcement on BlogAdda.

I don't think he would even be able to recognize himself if he somehow ended up reading this post, but to me, he will always remain true to his name - of inestimable value - and for that, he gets to reside in an extra special, cozy corner in the depths of my much-cracked, much-scratched, much-battered, much bruised, but still loving little heart.

My first crush, I miss you. I wish we were friends...that would be SO damn cool.

77 Fiction #2: "Ironic farewell"

'I love you!' she said, hugging him. 'You're my BESTEST friend!'

Silence.

‘You can hug me back, you know,’

'What if I don't want to?' he shot, breaking free. ‘I love very few people, ok?’

‘Goodbye’ he mouthed. And she was left standing there in the departure lobby, stunned.

She had heard about unrequited love, but unrequited friendship?

And that too, NOW, when she was moving away for good.

She didn’t know whether to cry or laugh.

Random, rhythm-less poetry for the random, rhythm-less, rain!

Black, silent night;

Not a soul in sight.

I stood in my balcony,

arms wrapped around me,

shivering slightly

in the unusually cold breeze.

Somewhere far away,

it was raining.

I could smell it in the air,

that carried the lingering scent

of freshly wet earth.

It was past midnight,

and I was supposed to be asleep.

But I felt wide-awake and restless;

I'd been like this for weeks now -

Stressed out and frustrated,

'coz of all the things that were just so wrong

I was tense and angry and upset,

and missed the good old days,

when life used to be simple,

uncomplicated.

I missed being happy and healthy and hearty.

These days, all I ever felt was sad

and tired and disturbed.

I wanted out, I wanted to vent.

But somehow, even the tears had run dry now.

I was beyond sobbing; I wanted to howl in agony,

To scream a blood-curdling scream of pain -

Much like bereaved people do, as they lean over the body

of a beloved they have lost.

I searched the sky beseechingly,

begging for the rain clouds to hurry up

and come my way; perhaps a change of weather

would make me feel better.

I felt a drop of moistness upon my cheek,

and raised a hand to touch it.

I was surprised to find a lone tear,

at once warm and cold.

Almost against my wish, more followed.

And soon, I was weeping,

silently, uncontrollably.

A choked sound escaped my throat,

and my nose began to clog.

I burred my face in my hands and sank down,

heaving slightly.

Bitter tears, rocked my body,

and I longed

to be held, by someone who cared,

someone who would comfort me

with whispered words of sweetness and love.

And then, the sky flashed with a brilliant light,

for a fraction of a second.

And a boom of thunder

echoed across the world.

I looked up, startled.

And then, miraculously, smiled,

through my pain.

for fat, wet drops pounded upon my face,

icy cold against the warm torrents of sorrow

that had robbed it of its grace.

I got to my feet and felt the water seep in,

through my clothes. It ran down my body,

in tickling rivulets, and seemed to wash my tears away.

I spread out my arms, and twirled around,delighted.

I faced the sky and felt my sadness lift

like magic.

Someone up there was crying for me, with me.

Someone up there, shared my despair.

The thought made me smile as I danced around

soundlessly, welcoming the respite, welcoming the change;

Like a ghost, a phantom, a creature possessed.

I let the water drench me,

and my heart sang in glee.

For someone up there,

had sent the rain just for me.

Politics IS a dirty word. But an appealing dirty.

I've never been much interested in politics. Like a lot of other young people, I always regarded it as a dirty word, indicative of an even dirtier, devilish world. But Prakash Jha's Raajneeti has most definitely changed all that. I suddenly feel a hell lot interested in what goes on behind the closed doors of our nation's leaders' hectic lives, even if it IS dark and dangerous and everyone has to constantly watch their backs and pick their friends (and enemies!) with utmost care.

The movie grabs your attention from scene 1 and holds it throughout as the fast-paced drama unfolds, landing you one shocking blow after another. The minute you start to relax in your seat, along comes a twist that will jerk you up right at once, probably with your eyes wide and mouth hanging open. The curt, clever dialogs simply enhance the whole cinematic experience. (Though I didn't follow some of the chaste Hindi but that's okay...)

It is thrilling, packed-with-suspense (and action!), gritty, and hard-hitting. It doesn't beat around the bush, nor does it sugarcoat anything, nor does it have any of the usual elements of Bollywood flicks like candy floss romance and unnecessary masala. (In fact, even the songs are mostly absent because there was perhaps no space in the screenplay to waste on such frivolity.) It portrays the 'ruthless, conniving' world of politicians just the way it is today in modern India, where loyalties can change any time, blood can be shed without a second thought, and marriage is regarded merely as a ticket to power. Power. That's what it's all about. Whoever gives a damn for the helpless, easily-manipulated common man?

The most striking thing about Raajneeti to me was how, no matter how much you puzzle and contemplate over the plot, you will never quite be able to decide which of the belligerent parties is 'right' and worthy of supporting. It's like neither side is either right or wrong; they're just there, doing whatever they can possibly can to retain control. No rules, no ethics, no friendship, no trust; ONLY self-gain.

All in all, it's a must watch for every film buff, every person who likes a good story, every person who appreciates exceptional acting. For me, Arjun Rampal totally steals the show. He's sharp, precise, and hits just the right spot. Ranbir, Ajay Devgan, Nana Patekar and Manoj Bajpayee give equally stellar performances. Katrina doesn't have too much screen time but is great and looks beautiful in her so-called 'de-glam' avatar.

Go watch it! You shall not regret it...."Karaara Jawaab Milega, Karaara Jawaab Milega!!"

Why I Don't Have a Boyfriend.

So a few days ago, I received this email forward containing an attachment titled 'Why I Will Never Have a Girlfriend.' On opening it, I found a sort of research paper written by some guy called Tristan Miller in 1999. On Googling his name, I found this link and was pretty amused. I'm not sure whether the research was serious or some sort of a joke (it looks all official and stuff), but it got me thinking, even if I didn't understand some of the 'elementary statistical calculus' in it. It prompted me to explore a similar problem in the context of my own life, but I, unlike Tristan, decided to focus more on the present instead of making an assumption and using the word 'never'. And hence, I went about trying to answer the BIG question: 'Why don't I have a boyfriend?'

(The above pic is solely for symbolic usage. I am nowhere near as thin or beautiful as that girl)

The main difference between my analysis and Tristan Miller's is that I've focused more on valid reasons rather than use a jumble of statistical calculations and overly smart comments to blame the problem on the world. Also, mine is more interestingly written. Naturally. :P

Right, so, here is what my

deeply intellectual, sharp, creative and talented mind (if I may say so myself) came up with as an explanation behind the problem - or rather, the crisis - in my life.

Firstly, to land a boyfriend, I would obviously need to socialize with a fair amount of boys so that I could get to know them, or rather, they could get to know me. But I fall short right here, because:

a) I live with my parents and never go to parties or other such gatherings where the male species can be found in abundance.

b) I don't have too many male friends who could introduce me to their cute/hot/sexy/dashing/charming/smart, SINGLE pals. I don't know why I get the feeling that even if I did have a lot of guy friends, they would still not risk introducing me to their buddies. :P (You will understand why by the end of this post.)

c) I don't accept every friend request I get from a random guy on Facebook. In fact, it was the very need to get away from such requests that made me quit Orkut. Of course, I have accepted SOME requests from people who seemed decent enough but I did end up regretting it most of the time. Guys who befriend you online (random guys, I mean. Not people who know you through your blog or something) are not to be trusted, trust me. Do you even know how many other girls they could be befriending at the same time and using the same lines on? What if they are perverts who are hooked to porn sites all day long? Or horny despos whose only pastime is sex chatting with naked girls on web cams? Big, bad, messy world it is out there in social-networking cyberspace. And I have vowed to keep away from it.

d) I live in GUJARAT out of all places. Trying to find a smart, well-read, educated guy who speaks reasonably good English and has some sort of constructive life purpose in Gujarat is like trying to find authentic Chinese food in India: you'll find it, no doubt, but it just won't be authentic, not quite the REAL thing, you know? Like for example, suppose you do find such a God-sent guy in aapnu Amdavad, something will definitely fall short - he may be shorter than you, or have the dressing sense of a circus artist, or untamed facial hair or B.O. or - you get the gist, right?

Now, you may argue that I'm being too selective, that I'm trying to find someone perfect when in fact nobody is perfect, but I'm not. Really, all I'm looking for is the average guy who is at least the same height or taller than me (I'm 5'8"), maintains good personal hygiene (he should smell good - that's top priority), does not sport a moustache or beard (a slight stubble is fine - quite desirable in fact - as is a neat, well-maintained beard a la Shahid or Ranbir Kapoor in their current avatars), and is smart, driven and speaks good English.

A sense of humor is an obvious plus but not a prerequisite.

That's not asking for too much, is it? I'll put up with mood swings and other negative personality traits like dominance and stubbornness, and I'll not be possessive and I'll let him have his space and I'll not even demand anything from him such as romantic outings or presents or superficial celebration of every small occasion like 'month long anniversary', first kiss anniversary' 'first date anniversary' and bla bla. I will also never talk in a fake baby voice like a lot of girls do because I think it's purely repulsive, not to mention immature.

So, come on, I am sure there are plenty of decent, single guys who would fit the bill; I just don't get a chance to meet many of them. But suppose, by some lucky game of circumstance, I actually DO run into such a guy - why doesn't it lead anywhere? Well, this is best explained by a series of reasons that unfortunately forms a vicious cycle:

Reason 1: The first thing a guy is most likely to think on meeting me is 'weird' or 'strange' or 'huh?!'

Why, you ask? Well, because I AM weird. What else do you call a girl who claims to be INDIAN - and can even prove it by her unaccented Hindi - but has pale skin and blond hair and speaks in somewhat rapidly rolling English that is accented, part Kenyan, part British, part American, part Canadian, part Indian and has a varied mix of vocabulary and phrases that are again part Kenyan, part British, part American, part Canadian and part Indian?

Now, by the time the guy has noticed and grasped all this and gotten over the novelty of it, Reason 2 kicks in:

Reason 2 is that I suffer an abnormality in my eyes. It's called nystagmus (Google it if you're so curious! I love Google - it has almost all the answers to almost everything you would almost ever want to know) and it makes me extremely self-conscious. I feel awkward maintaining eye contact with people but I know that eye-contact is a must (I personally never trust people who don't meet my gaze) so I do it anyways and that can perhaps freak out even the most wonderful of people, including of course, this hypothetical guy I'm currently talking about. Now, there is a very good chance that he doesn't get freaked out at all and I'm getting all hyper about nothing but years of being self-conscious have programed my mind to steadily heighten my awkwardness as I obsess over what the other person is thinking of me. And when this awkwardness reaches the hilt, Reason 3 comes into play.

Reason 3 is that I get completely tongue-tied. Even if I have interesting topics of conversation in mind, I just won't be able to bend my tongue around the words. Instead, I'll start asking random questions. So many questions that anyone would feel like they're being interrogated in some crime investigation. I can't help it. I'm just very curios and I like to dig deeper into people's personalities and lives and know all about them. Yes, I know it can be quite irritating at times but it's the only thing I can do when I get too tongue-tied to contribute anything about myself. Obviously, this detective-like tendency adds to the whole weirdness factor hence further putting off/scaring the guy. It also means that he never quite gets to experience my sparkling personality which comprises of a witty, sarcastic sense of humor, an ability to talk interestingly about a variety of topics - from sports and movies to books, celebrities and current affairs - as well as an IQ that I was once told beats that of five average girls put together.

Yeah, I know it's an exaggerated compliment but I actually did receive it once. Anyhow, it doesn't really matter because my superior brain cells aren't exactly helping me land a boyfriend when they just go numb when an eligible guy is trying to talk to me.

The worst part comes when the guy goes so far as to flirt with me. That is totally The End because I get even MORE self conscious and fumble and blush crimson and retreat further into my shell until he just gives up and quits wasting his time on a weirdo like me.

That means that I'm either written off completely and never spoken to again or I get filed into the 'Interesting' category and am pinged online whenever there is nothing much to do or nobody less weirder/more attractive to chat to.

And hence, I end up staying single.

What's more is that since I'm a very emotional, romantic writer, I somehow get attached to the guy along the way, without even realising it. That means that I end up feeling all upset that he doesn't like me and I constantly obsess over when he will chat to me next or message me.

Moreover, being a writer, I have sharp observational powers (despite the afflicted eyes) so it turns out that I have unconsciously registered every little nuance of detail about him - the precise curve of his jaw bone, the angle at which his hair falls over his forehead, the look in his eyes and their usual frequency of blinking, the shape of his mouth, his dialect and accent and style of speaking, the phrases he uses most often, even the prominence of his Adam's apple, believe it or not! So he remains constantly on my mind and I feel all restless and desperate and annoyed and stupid and helpless and lonely.

Until the next guy comes along to take my mind off the current one, only for the whole process to repeat itself all over again.

Told you it forms a vicious cycle!

So that's the norm in my non-existent love life - the rules which it seems to strictly follow.

Sighhh...

But I do believe that every rule has it's exception. And I continue to (im)patiently wait for mine.

Might as well sing this new song by Himesh while I wait: Mahiya se deedar kara de, rabba luck barsa!!

Though, now that I think of it, even if I DID get a boyfriend, there are many things which could lead to the relationship going kaput in no time at all. But those are the stuffing of another post; my next post maybe. Perhaps I should take some more inspiration from Tristan Miller and name it 'Why I Will NEVER Have a Boyfriend' after all. :P

Until next time, check out the above-mentioned Himesh song; it really is quite nice... He's got a new Arabian look and all. Is it my imagination (or desperation perhaps!) or does he actually look kind of good? :P