The dilemma

More broken you are than I am

More torn up your soul than mine

More love you have than me

Less realization you do than I

More distance I put between us

The closer you get and make a fuss

More I run and hide from you

Faster you find and trap me in

Farther I go so you won't come

Faster you come and smile at me

A weakness I will regret for life

You rip my soul and mend it again

You make my life so unstable

Happiness is what I prefer over you

I hide, I run, I cringe and scream

It hurts to stay and it hurts to smile

You don’t see my heart oozing blood

Go away and never come back

For life is once and I can’t cry anymore

I can’t beg and I won’t lie

You are the be all and end all of my life

Come here and stay with me

But make a promise to make me smile

Come in the night and cuddle with me

Swear to me that I can see your eyes in the daylight

Come here and love me

Kiss me like you mean it and Love me like it’s not lust

No! No! I don’t want you to come

For what’s stake is my happiness

So, go away and never come back

Until you can love me like you did

Go away and never come back

Even if you can love me like you did.

Go away and never come back

So I can experience happiness

Go away and never come back

For I prefer being happy over you!

I am an alien!

Dear Humans,

I wait at the queue in a departmental store and the queue doesn’t seem to move for a long time. Then I see this woman running around picking stuff and dropping it at the trolley by the billing counter. This kept going on for a while and I lost patience. I asked the lady at the counter what was going on and it seems like this woman who is running around like a headless chicken has forgotten few things which she is picking up now while we wait for the princess to be done. I pushed the trolley aside and asked the lady to bill my stuff. Immediately, this woman came running claiming her position in the queue. I told her that she can finish her shopping and get back to billing. She seemed extremely offended and picked a fight with me. Noone who waited in the queue supported me. I know I was not wrong. But apparently, I was told that I am the indecent person.  Somehow people always find pleasure in bypassing a queue. Is this lack of patience or common sense or should I say arrogance? And the people who waited in the queue before me why haven’t they stood up for themselves?

I am writing this letter to solemnly swear that I am an alien stuck in this planet. I don’t remember what happened and why I was left behind but I hope my extended family and friends miss me and send a search crew to find me because I cannot live in this world anymore. A world where man slaughters man and calls it survival of the fittest. A place where I cannot live life the way I want to without being judged. I cannot take this pressure of pleasing the strangers I don’t even care exist. A world filled with lust, hatred, and hypocrisy.

This is not the world I remember and I don’t want to live in this planet anymore because many men believe that they live in a feminist world and women think most of the men are misogynist. We live in a world where we speak a lot about equality but women always get run over or side tracked by men on the road because they don’t like women overtaking them and women expect to get special privileges over men because she is a woman. We talk about not judging people but cannot stop wondering why the girl next door comes late and why a man drops her everyday. We fail to understand the fact that being gay is not a choice. We constantly say, “Live and let live” but we do not approve what others want to do with their lives. A society that constantly expects an individual to seek their approval before doing something. Where vegetarians constantly justify why being one is perfectly normal and why not being is a sin. While non-vegetarians constantly bully vegetarians saying we kill the plants like they kill animals. It is food for God’s sake and just eat whatever you feel is appetizing!

A place where killing a fellow human being for war or their own purpose is perfectly alright. Countries and a council that call punishing someone who shattered the lives of people barbaric while they fail to think of how barbaric these assailants were! Where fair talk is only a myth. Where religion of our choice has become a crime while selling it or killing people who don’t want to follow that religion has becomenormal.

This is a place where accepting the fact that you love someone is always misused and taken advantage of. When a man says a woman that he is love in with her or when a woman says a man that she is in love with him, most of the times the other person takes advantage of it. People love unambiguity even if it makes them want to break their head. Where humans don’t respect each other, where they are ready to slaughter their self-respect in the name of love. Where the beautiful feeling called love is raped in to satisfy lust!

This is a planet where social media decides the beauty of a person. Where nothing is private and nothing can be hidden from the outside world. Where I think I am constantly monitored by a thousand eyes, scrutinizing every detail of my life because they can. This is a world where I don’t have a place to hide in my own house. Where mobile phones took over humans sitting opposite to us. Where you are constantly expected to be available inspite of your shortcomings. A place where you have to push your friends and loved ones aside to come up the ladder because survival of the fittest!

This is not the world I know. This is not the world I used to live-in. In my world, there was peace and there was love. There was no social media and I was not constantly craving for likes and opinions to regain my self-esteem. I did not beg people to stay in my life because I didn’t have to. They were not acting or playing around for their benefits. They were them and I was me our world met at one point where we met whenever we could.

Yours truly,

A Frustrated Outcast!

P.S: Just in case you are wondering, No, I am not available for research!

The Rise and Fall of a Writer

What is the first thing that comes to your mind when you hear or see Chetan Bhagat? A man who writes stuff about IIT, things (not) to do in IIT, girls, boy issues, s**, s**, s**, and more s** and beeeeeeeeppp. My best friend is not a reader. If you take him to a bookstore he will carry your bags and stand in a corner with the security guard but I saw him indulging himself in one of the books written by Chetan Bhagat. It was The three mistakes of my life, I guess. I was just staring at him in surprise. He told me that he is not reading the book per se, apparently he’s read all the books written by Chetan Bhagat and he is just looking for the erotic stuff in it. “This guy is great at emphasizing that” exactly what he told me. There you go, a very good reason for a non-reader to read! Now, you cannot deny the fact that most of you have read at least one book by him, atleast glanced as you walked along the bookstore.

I am a member of Chetan’s Bhagat’s Facebook page. I had liked the page many years ago. For the past few months, whatever update this man posts all I see is hate comments. I like to read the comments on a post it gives you a perspective on other’s perspective (In other words, I must get a life that’s interesting). They ask him to stop writing, stop judging dance shows, stop writing scripts. But what if the man actually likes to do these things? While I agree that his books are not great and well aware of the fact that we are in a democratic, free nation where we can express what we feel, we do not have the rights to bash a person like this. It all started when the writer meddled himself up with Aamir Khan for 3 idiots. He changed his statement on and off mostly because I think he didn’t want to be a part of any controversy. He then made a mistake of writing Revolution 2020 I have absolutely no idea what he was thinking when he wrote it. It is a huge disappointment. Now he’s written another book, “Making India Awesome” I don’t know how it is and believe I will never know. When this update was posted on his facebook page the hate comments started pouring in and when I noticed the pattern it was normally based on the previous comments few people didn’t even bother to change the words. They then ask him not to judge dance shows. Tell me something, in India can you tell me one program where you can see a judge who has in depth knowledge in what they are judging? Actors judge cookery shows, they always win a crore in crorepati. Now the funniest part is that the same actor who won a crore would have blabbered nonsense in another interview. Suddenly when she entered the sets of crorepati she is enlightened with all the knowledge in the world. How does that happen? But we don’t care about it we still sit and watch these shows. Then a writer judges a dance show and all hell breaks loose! What is wrong with you people? The writer personally wrote a message saying these comments disturb him and I do understand how it feels to be trashed on a forum like that.

I like him. He changed Indian writing and like I said he made non-readers read whatsoever the reason. He has a good sense of humour and he respects women. I have respect for this man because when most of the men of this generation stick their tail between their legs and run behind their mothers this man stood up to the girl he loved and married her. I have read his books. I liked the books one night at the call center and 2 states. But will I read his books again? Now? No! Because they are just not my pick. Plus, I like to see a writer evolve out of his first book. There was a time when I saw 2 states on the stands I was the first to run and grab it. Honestly, that was one of the happiest moments of my life. Will I do that now? No! I wouldn’t risk investing my time or money on his books. I expect quality and something that will make me feel refreshed. I don’t want IIT, love, mess ups and s** everytime I read a book. I have moved on. But I won’t sham him in public or post hate comments on his facebook page or anything of that sort. I will simply not read his books.

All said and done, I think the country will be a better place to live in if we have a reason behind the hatred, if we think before we talk, if we don’t blindly follow a man’s word. You like it or not, he’s set a trend and I can name authors whose books after reading, I seriously considered writing to them asking for a refund followed his footsteps only to fail miserably. Oh wait! They have a fan following too. Their books scream “I want to be Chetan Bhagat too” through and through. Maybe he doesn’t interest a set of people anymore. But there are folks who still love him. I have written an e-mail to him appreciating him. In the e-mail I told him that I want to be a writer someday. I got a response the next day itself and he wished me luck for becoming a writer. I know writers who make a mockery of those who want to be writers. “Everyone wants to be a writer these days” exactly what they say.

I think this man deserves respect more than anything else. You loved him once and now you hate him fine, but why hate someone you don’t even know? Think! If you hate him for being civil you are a moron. If you hate him because everybody else hates him, again, you are a moron. If you think his job is to write and he cannot judge dance shows. Well, then I think you should stick to your profession alone and not take up any other activity even if you get paid for it because your job is to do what you are doing now. If you do not prefer his books anymore, leave the book and the man alone. More importantly, un-like his Facebook page and save your time! 

The man

I heard his muffled footsteps on the staircase. He was coming to me, he was looking for me. I am controlling the impulse to bolt the door because it’s important not be disturbed because I am reading. I am reading my favourite novel, “The time traveller’s wife”. But here he is standing infront of me with his huge belly. I would never prefer having a man like that on my bed. He is drunk and clenching a cigarette carelessly in between his lips. He shuffled closer to me I sat there looking at him steadily, loathing my fate yet again for the 100^th time that day. Oh no no, I have not had 100 men in a day. That would tear me off, literally! He fell and I smile at my own joke. The timing was impeccable. “What are you smiling at? You slut” He asked. I smiled again. It only irritated him more. The smell of sweat and alcohol filled my room. How I wish I could get rid of him. I sigh when he almost fell over me and started kissing me on my lips, neck and everywhere possible. The smell of him was disgusting. I wanted to puke but no, I need him, I need the money and so I stay. I stay as his huge belly gets on top of me and presses my body. I feel the heaviness and the pain. And there we were done. He did not even remove my clothes and he was getting ready to leave. I lay there on the bed the pain still not gone. A drop of tear rolling down my eyes as I see the silhouette of the huge figure leave my room cussing how boring it was. I laugh at my fate now, mostly at his words.

I have had all kinds of men the ones who want me on the top, the ones who just want to play with me but not the actual sex, the ones who would just ask me to strip and masturbate and then the ones who would masturbate on me. I have had the kinds who just want to talk how they would do me. I have had men who come but do nothing, they watch me remove my clothes and want me to sit naked infront of them as they talk about life. How I wish I had a man who would change this for me! I wonder if there would be someone who would do this. I wish I had a man who would come to my room and change the meaning of sex for me. Who would rid me of the pain and show me the path to ecstasy, the elixir. Where do I go find a man like that? Now, I don’t have the luxury to be choosy here. Afterall, it’s my living. Like the huge bellied man called me, I am a slut. I sleep with men for a living. I take it when they physically abuse me and pay me more. I take it when they hurt me and pay me more. I have to act like I like it when they exploit my body and my feelings because they pay me more! The house pays me more when I strip infront of 100 men in the room. They bid on almost 500 women who stay in the house making a living out of prostitution. Men still get to choose who they want to be with. They have an upperhand in everything. They can hurt us and simply pay more. And there is a part of the world that is screaming for equality while there is another that is debating that we have already secured it. Funny isn’t it?

Oh! I said I have had all kinds of men, haven’t you started guessing my age yet? You wouldn’t! You are busy concentrating on the indelicate parts of this narration. You are concentrating on the words that would arouse you! Why do you care about the age of the woman who is writing it? But I am still going to go ahead and tell you my age. I am at the age where every woman craves to feel a man inside of her, where she is curious to explore the parts of a man, to know what excites him, to know what turns him on, to know what makes him moan. I am at the age where hot men turn women on. Where women can make a man follow her like a puppy and make him dance to her tunes! Actually, my mother says a woman is capable of doing anything. How ignorant of her! In my world, men are capable of anything. They can make or break my world. If they think I am boring, ugly, not interesting or uncooperative I am out of the game. In my world, if I am quick, witty, and brainy or have a mind of my own I am out of the game. Do you even know a world like mine exist?

I did meet a man I fell in love with. Oh! How stupid of me to fall in love? I must be mad to say things like this. But I did fall in love. He had come to the house one day. He thought I have beautiful deep dark eyes like the black hole. I don’t know what that meant. But I liked the fact that he felt that there is something mysterious about my eyes and he loved my long tresses. He said, he would love to hide under the shelter of those long tresses. Oh well, he was flirting with me. Men rarely flirt with me like this. It was subtle. I smiled and he smiled too. I asked him what he liked to do and he said he just wanted to talk. Now, I have come across such men too. Oh! The chatting type. I tell him. He guffaws and holds my hand. What do you want to do? He asked. I looked at him surprised. He returned the same surprised look. I smiled and said, ‘If you want to chat I want to chat too, if you want to kiss, I can kiss, if you want me to remove...’ he placed his long, slender index finger on my lips and shook his head.

‘I asked what do you want to do?’ he smiled again and held my hand.

My stomach lurched and I was surprised by that question. Noone respected me as much! I have not met a man like him. I told him that I want to talk too, that I want to know more about him. He told me that he was a software Engineer who lived across the street and that he sees me every evening sitting by the balcony reading books. ‘I love books too. They are my companions. I have a huge library at home. You should come see someday’ he said inspecting the room and the bookshelf sitting in one corner.

‘Are you allowed to come out of this dungeon?’ he asked looking around.

‘No. Although I wish there was a way. I want to see this world’ I told him hoping against hope that he would take me out of this place.

‘hmmm...The kite runner, And the mountains echoed, The book thief, Kafka... wow! You’ve got quite some taste’ he said running his slender, manly fingers through the spine of the books.

‘Why are you here?’ I asked bluntly trying to tie my hair.

‘Don’t’ he signalled me to stop. ‘I paid to spend this night with you and you are supposed to listen to me so don’t tie your hair’ he said and I laughed. He came closer and my heart stopped for a tiny second. He sat facing me looking at my face without blinking. Light brown eyes, lengthy eye lashes, pink lips, sharp nose, a couple strands from his hair dangled over his forehead, his broad shoulders and chest, he was very handsome but... ‘Oh my God!’ I yelped as he came closer to kiss me.

‘What?’ he looked startled.

‘You are gay, aren’t you?’

‘what?’ he looked puzzled!

‘You are gay!’ I asked holding his shoulders only to see him laugh hysterically. He laughed for a good 5 minutes embarrassing me. I admired him.

‘You look gorgeous when you are confused, do you know that?’ he asked moving a strand of hair from my cheeks. I blushed and felt it. A man, the man who made me blush! He told me that he loved to play with the codes, pages and pages of complex codes that are used to build various products that is used in various places to do various things. He spoke about his parents, his brother and his ex girlfriend. He told me how they broke up and tears filled his eyes. I asked him what I could do to make him feel better and he asked me to just sit with him, holding his hand. I did. He held my hand tight and told me that he had a passion for music and his guitar was his life but how much his father hated him playing guitar. He said he is a rebel and showed me a tattoo that read “Freedom” He asked about me and what I liked. He did not ask me how I ended up here or why. He asked me about my family. We spoke about everything under the sky he liked most of the things I did. The silence of the night, it’s darkness, the sky, the beautiful stars, the rain and a hot cup of coffee. He told me that he loved long bike rides and that he would take me on rides. How I wish!

He told me that he could paint and showed me his paintings on his mobile phone. He showed a portrait of me sitting in the balcony reading a book. He then showed many portraits of me smiling, crying, waiting, anticipating the expressions on face differed from one portrait to other. For a minute, I thought he was a magician. I was astonished and ran out of words. ‘I look beautiful’ I smiled.

‘I started drawing you to pass my time and then I think I eventually fell in love with you. Do you want to come with me?’ he asked me casually tucking his phone in the back pocket of his jeans. I laughed. I laughed and then I cried and laughed again. He looked confused.

I knew I was falling in love with him. How silly of me to fall in love with a normal person. He is from an upper middle class family with a proper upbringing while I was pushed into this business to beat poverty. I lost my parents to fate and famine. I lost myself here and now I am losing myself to him. As night fell and dawn set in. He pulled me closer and kissed my lips that many men have kissed a million times. But this kiss felt different. This kiss had passion, longing and...love in it. Was this even happening? I tried to wake up but no I was awake. I heard the door being knocked. We looked at the door. It was time for him to leave.

‘Will you come with me?’ he asked me holding my hands.

‘I am...you know who I am!’ I said my tears brimming my eyes.

‘I do and I want you to be with me, as my wife! I am sure about this.’ He said and the knock at the door became louder.

‘I belong here not with you. Your family will not accept me. I don’t even know you.’ I cried trying to smile.

‘You don’t belong here and I know it. You know it too. Let’s talk as individuals first! Come with me! I promise you. I can give you a better life!’ he pleaded. I ran and opened the door.

He stood there breathing heavily. I was not sure if it was anger or sadness. He looked me in the eyes as I lowered my gaze to the floor. ‘I will come back’ he said as he left the room. I shut the door immediately. My heart racing him to follow him like a puppy, my mind asking me to calm down I stood there torn apart hoping he would come again. I ran to the balcony and saw him leaving the house as he turned to see me I looked at him. He smiled and waved to him. I smiled. I will come back he mouthed. I was not sure if he will come back but I knew he fulfilled my wish. I finally met the man! 

I am OLD and Single!

I chose “old” and single as a topic because in a country like ours, being in late 20s is old unless you are Rahul Gandhi and being single when you are old is a sin even Rahul Gandhi was not spared (I am glad!) The potential problems we lot face is just unexplainable (I have come to fall in love with the word potential because of my old manager. That’s for another day). The older generation cannot understand why I am still single when I am already too “old” to bear children? Why I am hanging out with so many men late at night when I should be hanging out with my husband? Why I plan on solo travelling and other crazy things when I should actually be running behind my kids and taking care of my husband. Then comes our generation who thinks that best friend I am going out with or tag on facebook is a boyfriend of mine. That I should keep an open mind and many such annoying things.

Here’s a fact, I don’t want to be single and I don’t want to compromise either. It’s complicated; deal with it or how about “It’s none of your fucking business”. So here I am sitting and hatching eggs while the right person comes along (or got hit by a truck). Growing old as I stay single has its side effects. I am losing my mojo! I have lost interest in flirting or should I say lame flirting? This is how my flirting sessions go -

Hi!

Hi!

What’s up?

This one throws me off; call me old fashioned or an idiot but this question is really vague in all sense. What’s up? Ceiling, sky, fan, light and many things (I am letting your imagination work here) but seriously, what’s up? I blink for a good 5 mins and type –

‘Nothing much. Going on’ I asked some of my good friends who understand my dumbness on what I should reply to what’s up? They said I can tell how my life is and how things are going on in general. So ok, my answer is appropriate. Then –

How are you?

I thought I just said what’s up!

Yes but how are you?

OK, I cannot handle this. I stop responding. I honestly feel I am not made for small talks. If, what’s up and how are you and howdy are the same why are you asking them in 3 different ways? Clearly, you don’t know how to take a conversation or I don’t know how to answer the same question in 3 different ways. Sometimes when I am too bored or in a good mood, I take control and ask about their interests most of the times it is uninteresting (Watching TV or internet – that’s vague (again)) or something vague (again and again!) Plus, watching TV or internet is not an interest! So anyway, few of my friends ask me to be less of an ass so I pick watching TV and ask about movies and series I watch. Most of the times, they have no idea what I am talking about (and they call themselves a book worm or a movie buff!). So to bridge the difference, I again let them take the lead and they come up with, “So what are you doing?” Well, I am doing a lot of things now but mostly stuck with you and looking for ways to get rid of you. I stop replying and conveniently move the person to my friend’s zone. Honestly, in my defense, I will not get offended if the man does the same to me, to each his own.

Then there is this matrimonial site. For 7 years now, I am not able to solve the mystery of what traditional with a modern bend or down to earth yet open minded mean. How are down to earth and open-minded related? In between,

Hello, men! You are annoyed with us giving preferences. I would like to tell you that we are super annoyed with your vague statements like above and Height – 5 feet 2 inches to 5 feet 5 inches, weight – 50 -65 Kgs, Job – Must, should have completed MBA or hold a Master degree (frankly, I would prefer holding something else (pardon my perverted mind!)) Should be willing to contribute to my housing loan (So you couldn’t take another loan to pay your housing loan and decided to get married) now what are these? Are they not preferences? Oh right, you are men! I forgot.

I have had matrimonial requests from men who are 56, beat that. That was when my mother decided to delete my profile from the site (Thank God! You proved your existence. Finally!) Then there are these utterly shameless men who always think that I am single so obviously assume that I am easy and available. And then I have deal with men at work and everywhere else who always see me as a prospective bride or again naturally assume that I am available for sex. I tried an experiment and told these men that I am committed and they all stopped talking to me (speak of decent men and friendship, meh!).

To all those useless people who asked me to try the dating sites. I am sure you would have used those too and I tried it too because friends! So now that I have tried and tested it, I want to ask these people who use it only one innocent question, “Seriously, have you ever considered getting a fucking life?” Let me break the bubble for you, you are not going to meet your soulmate there, you are not going to meet a decent soul there forget soulmate (If I have hurt your feelings, I deeply apologize but screw these dating sites and go do something useful!) I came across so many sex-deprived men there. I couldn’t handle for more than 2 hours.

So, here are the facts out on the table. I have laid it off neatly for you to know. I am going through a lot as a woman who is single at this age. I am love deprived and sometimes (read all the time) crave for a man who will be by my side thinking of ways to put up with my craziness and love me for what I am (I am assuming he did not get aborted in the womb, that will make me sad and put in depression for the rest of my life. But you get the point and I will try to be an optimist.). I don’t want him to see me as a bank that will pay his personal loan or someone who will serve his parents or someone who will be that traditional Indian bahu! I just cannot be! And I can be old and single and crazy but I cannot be old and married and boring. I will break the wedding and ask the man to fuck off because I have very low tolerance, wait… no tolerance at all to bullshit and boredom. So I am asking you nicely to mind your business and I am very rarely nice in this regard!