Women of the virgin territory

Someone thought its a good idea to advocate the advantages of hugging; and what we have is a newspaper article that spouts a lot of theories and practices on the science of hugging. Considering the fact that its written for an Indian audience, it had a lot of practical tips towards the etiquette for hugging. As I read the article, a very amusing revelation came to me. I haven't hugged anyone for the past ten years, and I am stopping at ten coz I can't be sure about the time before that.

Why?

Coz its not part of the culture I grew up in. Yes, I believe that even our traditional form of greeting is a chaste namaste. Especially, if you are of the female species, people are reluctant to touch you. Even fathers, mothers and brothers keep off girls once girls step into their teens. Now does that mean I am deprived, well no; I can't miss what i don't know. No wonder, girls of this nation develop a highly sensitive sense of personal space. Try standing next to a woman in a crowded bus, I bet most men can sense that barrier that says, 'cross at your own peril.'

Its just a small thing yet the result of a cascading effect of the bigger picture that defines the status of women in India. And that status dictates that unmarried woman should be untouched virgins. (By the way, whats the link between touching and virginity?) Just watch a mega serial (that almost the entire nation watches) to know how important it is. That's why India is one of those corners of the world where you can hunt for virgins in their twenties and maybe even older. Whats with the virginity stuff? Why aren't men expected to be virgins? Was this a bright idea of someone to control the great Indian population burst?

Some of the undesirable side effects of this obsession with virginity is the social stigma that is pinned onto women who aren't virgins and still unmarried. Take for example the way rape victims are treated. The fact that there are very few rape victims who actually talk about it is a cold reminder of the fear of stigma; the automatic statements that twist the woman's character so much so that she is assumed to be responsible for what happened to her. By the way, have you ever realized that married bharathiya bahu's with children but very limited brain development barely enough to support family, fight with in laws and gossip about neighbors seem to be respected more than women who are professionally successful and generally more productive to society?

But then what can be expected of a nation which treats woman as men's property. Where even a woman's identity has to be substantiated with the father's or the husband's name. It's such a bad bargain. But it does have its advantages if you want a passive simplistic life (meaning just eating, sleeping, sex and looking pretty).

I don't care much for it coz, I know I will die within the first twenty four hours of such a life, and of course I ain't pretty. But I do have my radar and I can bet that no one matches the abilities of a hyper active inbuilt radar system to leering men like that of an Indian woman's.

To my right - survey

Hey guys, I am taking a survey. Its very simple. Just answer the question below as a comment.

What do you think is right and wrong?

Bride and prejudice

Bride seeing ceremonies have a very distinct effect on me - a mixture of disgust, despair, annoyance and a little bit of hope. Curiously though, that negligible amount of hope seems to sway my entire reasoning towards submission. And after going through the routine, I have become used to it, even though I still get the urge to do something nasty to the unsuspecting groom's party. Even though I protest rather loudly, I am no more rebellious about this subject as I was before; especially when I am painfully aware that I myself have failed in this department rather miserably.

Finally, after spending five hundred buck on a shrink who said, I need to find a right guy for myself (duh! as if I don't know.) I decided that some soul searching is needed in this department. So, I sat down and really thought; not my usual flashes of genius type but by aid of a series of questions raised by the great sage, Yavanshi.

Q: What am I looking for?
A: Someone who would see me as an individual and not as a mass product of society (well, no one seems to want custom made stuff anymore. Made in India's simmering cauldron of social zombism is the preferred brand for brides, and needless to say, I don't fit the bill.)

Q: Why would I marry?
A:Obviously for love (what? did I say something funny.)

Q: Do I really need to marry?
A: If I will be better of married that single then yes, otherwise no. And that's solely dependent on my tolerance level to the unlucky chap, if ever there is one. And that in turn is dependent on how much I can love him.

Q: Whom would I love?
A: Hum, a guy I can respect. Someone who would love me enough to be there as the warm home I can get back to after wandering the worlds. Someone who will not only patch me up but also accept me patching him up when the need arises. (Someone tell me if I just eliminated the entire male population of the earth.) Oh yeah, and someone who is like minded enough to toss ideas like adoption and some noodles when I am tired. (Now that completes the elimination I suppose.)

Q: What can I give?
A: Love and understanding (like why men prefer football games to their wives), leeway (like he can have lunch,only, with a female friend but better be home for dinner), consideration (spare him the girl shopping) and freedom of thought (he can think and say that my violin playing skill are scientifically subzero and I won't cry, though i might still keep at it even harder.)

Q: Do I want to get married?
A: To the right guy yes. To the wrong one, I would rather run all the way to the north pole.

Q: Have I looked for Mr right?
A: Well, don't know how do that. At least I haven't asked men if they are married or otherwise within the first five minutes of knowing them.

Yavanshi, the great sage thought for a while and then finally gave her verdict.

"You are looking for a highly endangered species. Even if you find one, it will be a crime to waste him on you. But if by chance you do get Mr right, then that goes down in history as a miracle."

Why do we always hope for miracles? Even when we know it doesn't happen often these days. Same reason why we buy pop corn at the theater knowing very well it will cost ten times that of its actual price; coz its a luxury to hope.

Moms and daughters

Kanathil muthamital.
I had no idea what drove me to watch that movie and whats so special about that movie apart from Manirathnam's great direction, until a friend of mine tried to explain. She said that the movie touches a cord in everyone as they can relate to the anguish of a child who realizes that the woman she assumes as her mother is not hers and the hunger there after to know her real mother. Try as I might, I still cannot understand it at all.

Every time, I see a mother and a daughter, I wonder whats so special about this relationship that makes two women not only get along but actually love each other for a life time. Given the fact that I have the least experience on the subject, it still remains an enigma to me. For someone who lost her biological mother when young and then having to accept someone else in her mothers place, I would say that there are some unique points that you may not be aware of. Hence, I would say you can refrain from judgement.

Call it cruel, heartless, sick, demented or anything else, but I stubbornly refused to cry when my biological mother died. No one including me understood why (though a lot chose to talk about it behind my back.) I just didn't cry. All the while my brother was kicking and screaming for her, I just laid my head on my grandam's lap and watched her cry. After all these years, though I am not sure why I didn't grieve, I think I have a logical reason. Maybe because I wasn't sure about the relationship I shared with my mother. She was there but I guess I was raised more by my grandparents than my own parents. No regrets there though.

Surprisingly though, it took me even longer than my brother to accept a brand new mom. It took me over 15 years of fighting and compromising to get to the point where we can actually sit and talk and laugh together. I can now safely say that in our own way, we love each other. Boy relationships are so hard to build.

Now, every time I see a mother and a daughter duo I don't bother to wonder what it would be like. Instead I smile knowing that they will wonder the same way when they see me and my mom.

Let there be copy paste

God and the Devil were playing a game of cards. As usual God was winning and Devil decided that the game was rotten. So he suggested an alternative.

"You know that game we used to play long time ago" Devil said in his silky voice that had deceived so many before.

"Yeah" God said noncommitally. He remembered the game very well. The last time they played that game, they had a cloned sheep on their hands and it had taken all of His skills to make it stop at that.

But Devil was so bored, he wanted to be entertained and what better way than playing with humans. So, he went on "lets play that game again. I am bored."

"Restless as ever, if I had your energy, the world would be a better place." God sighed.

"yeah yeah, whatever. You are lazy but good and I am active but bad. Now shall we play or what."

God thought hard, to be frank, even he was bored. So he nodded and said, "so whats the arguement this time."

Devil can be super sharp when he is excited, so he promptly said, "I say your humans are the least creative of the lot. Given a chance they would xerox you and me and themselves."

"And I should say they are more creative than you give them credit for."

Devil rubbed his hands in glee and said, "we each get one chance to amend and thats all. Now let the game begin."

God stood up from his throne and for a moment thoght, then he said, "ah, well, at least its not as bad as cloning." He then raised his staff and lowered it with might as he said, "let there be copy paste."

a year later...
Sure as the Devil suggested, there were xerox machine everywhere. People copy pasted everything from books to quotes. People fought and complained about the rightful owner of material and the world was heading towards chaos.

One particular individual was having a nice time though. "You know, I am having a great time, seems like the whole world is copy pasting now. What are you going to do." Devil was leering at God unconciosuly.

"You will see. And stop leering at me. I know I am handsome, but I am not your type."

"I know, you are such a bore. But a little leering keeps boredom away."

The next day, the first copywright laws were passed and copy pasting became a crime, if done without consent of the owner.

Upstairs Devil said, "as if thats going to stop them."

But it did stop them for a while. The xerox machines were there but people took the effort to think and write for themselves. This annoyed the hell out of the devil. So what he did was appear in the dream of a corporate manager and wispered copy paste into his ears. This guy was already having trouble deciding whose work was good and whose was bad. The devils idea came at the perfect time.

He went to his office the next day and asked all his employees to line up. He chose the guys whom he thought had written the best proposals and software programs and asked his other employees to copy paste these best guys' works. Thus copy paste became the new mantra of corporate world.

Soon, everything from cola add scripts to books to software were copy pasted. Corporates fround that they made more money simply by copy pasting than actually writing their own scripts.

God was sitting bent with his hands supporting his chin, the devil was dancing around him singing
"God has a problem, yo ho ho and a funny day for him.
God made copy paste and yo ho ho he has a problem."

God look on with disgust and said, "awh please cut it out. You look stupid dancing like that."

Devil didnt care, he was happy, "Admit defeat Mr.God. Your men are no more creative."

God sighed and said, "ah well, who cares, even I am bored or taking care of those damn fools. I will let them be. They better find a way out soon."

No joy ride but...

You want to have a slice of Chennai, take the metro bus. Countless friends have asked me why I commute the hard way everyday. Apart from the fear of ending up as a plus mark on one of the city roads, despite all the inconvenience, the bus is entertaining.

Take yesterday for example, after a tiring day at work and an even more tiring wait at the bus stop; I finally got into a bus from CMBT heading towards Guduwancherri. It was one of those day where the Gods are playing cards or something and so don't waste time showing mercy. So, I didn't get a seat. Even as I was hanging on for dear life as the driver was testing the durability of the breaks, the sheer variety of life around me was quite over powering. Two college girls engaged in idle chatter in their typical, "no-yaaar-i-prefer-mobile-phones-with-glitters" conversation. Apart from the faint smile they elicited in me, they were completely worthless in substance. So, I scanned the confines of the bus for another interesting character. There was this smart guy down the narrow passage, who was cool to the eye but hard on sensibility. He was crooning to some darling over the other of the phone in a baby voice. Boy, isn't there a place for such things.

Next in line were two old men. Thankfully they didn't have cellphones and so were communicating the old way-facing each other and talking. They were of course talking about the Ps - pension and politics. Just ahead of me were two working woman. They were still wearing their ID tags and so I know they are from Covansys. I wanted to ask them the trick of wearing ID tags. I hate wearing mine even inside the office and feel thats its too heavy and bulky for my liking. Had I asked they would have known that my brain is pickling, so I just listened and soon enough I know they are paying housing loans, their company still follows slavery and every other woman apart from these two angels in Covansys is a b****. In between all this one of their husband had the gal to call and got a curt, "feed the kid and put him to sleep" reply. After some time my ears were buzzing so I moved on.

A daily wages laborer was throwing a tantrum that the bus wasn't moving fast enough and her husband and baby boy of 23 will be waiting in hunger. Ever eager to set the record straight, the conductor dove in and said that if the traffic wouldn't budge, its not his problem. To this he got a cool "if you guys don't drive properly, why wouldn't there be traffic hold ups" reply at which point the conductor decided he would doze rather than talk. One of the woman asked the lady how she got the scars on her face and promptly they settled into comparing war injuries. All this was just too much for me and I was begining to cling to a pole and close my weary eyes when I opened them startled. The women was saying, "these scars are from my husband when he hit me. Nothing wrong with that though, I deserved it you know."

I tried thinking for a while but then gave up. what the hell! its not me anyway.

Fist full of stars

Have you ever stood somewhere, forgotten where or who you are and just been there in that place at that moment aware of the distinct smell, sound and view of that place? If you have, then have you tried something like an antithesis to this? I mean have you ever imagined a place and imagined its smell, sound and view?

I have and believe me its a wonderful experience. We wake up eat, work, sleep and count our money and do a few other things like building houses, buying stocks, and making babies. For a change why not live in an imaginary world at least for a few minutes? I did and it was like a new door had opened stepping out of which you can grab a fist full of stars, make the Meadows bloom in a second and ask the sea to take a breather.

Its not that hard really. I believe that one of the reasons books are still sold in millions is because they give us the right to imagine whatever we read. But you see something for real and that image takes over. How many of us see Daniel Radcliff every time we read Harry Potter? All of us who saw the movies isn't it?

By the way, don't go overboard. a small dose of imagination may keep the shrink away but too much of it, you definitely need to see one.

Are we HOMO sapience?

This blog is the product of an other interesting blog a friend of mine wrote on homosexuality (http://pidog-thelordspeaks.blogspot.com/). That set me thinking and as you all know me by now promptly came up with a list of questions and possible answers that came to my mind.

Whats unusual about homosexuality?

Apparently nothing. I am sure that if 90% of the population was made of homosexuals, then the heterosexuals will be the ones who will be persecuted. People will say things like, "you know can you imagine, he made out with a girl; yikes, how disgusting!" hahaha! writing this blog is fun.

Whats the link between sex and love?

In truth, a lot. In recent times, sex and sometimes love in itself is reduced to hormone induced urges. Come on we aren't still primates, though they might have more sense than us. Why cant we give ourselves due credit and say that we love someone because they are our ideal company with whom we dare to be our naked selves (figuratively and literally) and we crave to get as close as we can with them at an emotional level. Sex independent of love is just a basic human need that frankly we don't need someone else to satisfy. If you don't know this, then I would say you had the perfect education in a perfect school.

Why the discrimination?

This is a difficult question to answer for me. But then I pulled a few specimens from society and came up with some brilliant but not sure if true answers.

Because according to the champions of the human race, its nonproductive (I don't believe this. Some part of man did remain unevolved.)
Because its unhealthy (well, smoking, drinking, eating junk food, staring at a computer for long hours and so much more are unhealthy.)
Because its the antithesis of family (If gay and lesbians can marry, I am sure they will make as good or rather as bad as any other family.)
Because its against religion (whats wrong with being against religion. By the way, I don't think any God said anything about this. Not even the ten commandments.)
Because its against nature (says who. Nature allows for a lot of diversity in everything and it if it wasn't natural, then we wont have it today.)

Are woman sensitive to this more than men?

Maybe, most writings on homosexuality is by woman. I believe they are more true to emotions than men. But if you want a Freudian kind of logic it would be something like 'all woman dream of being a man and fantasising about sex with themselves as a man is a favourite past time.' I can hear rotten tomatoes swishing through the air.

Please ladies, I didn't say that logic was right.

Ode to villany

I have five beginings for five different stories and I cant make my mind as to what to concentrate on. For once I wish I am Ravana (u need more brains to write than hands). Talking of which something just hit me.

Ravana, even though he was the bad guy was still portrayed as a nice demon who prayed, took care of his people and was in every way as good as Ram except for the fact that he was obsessed with Sita and was too egoistical to confess that he was going nowhere with her anyway. Even the Mahabaratha for its hundreds of villains portrays people as those who chose their side wrongly than as die hard villains. Even Duriyodhana had his redeeming qualities. His defense of Karna against social stigma is a fine example. By the way, if not for his greed, he would have been a good ruler possibly better than the ever preaching Yudishtira.

Comparing them with the current crop of fictious villains, these guys almost look like saints. At least they weren't sadists. Of the few Tamil movies I see, most of the villains are typecast as psychotic. Either he is traumatised by his past, or he is gay, or he is mentally unhinged. Even females who do negative roles are made as if their brain was too lazy to grow. Why the stereotype? Can't a normal man or woman make a choice that makes him a villain.

Even more interesting, why aren't the heroes from the fringes of society? Why isn't a disabled, sick or a mentally unstable person dealing with his problems a hero? Why is a man who isnt a gay but right in every otherway a hero? Even if they are the heroes (like black) why are they still treated as emotional dependents?

It's time someone gave respect to the villains. Why should someone be senseless to be a villain? Why do we always need an excuse to be a villain? After all, when we walk away from a man hurt on the road, to him we are a villain. When we throw everyones wishes to the wind and do what we want in life, we are the villains in all their lives. We are all villains in some way or the other. Whats wrong with that? We dont need a excuse for villany.

Probably, I haven't seen enough regional movies to judge but those I have seen are to be blamed for that. I have made up my mind. I am writing my own stories. They at least please me.

Saiyuki again

"If you meet the Buddha, kill the Buddha,
If you meet your father, kill your father
Free of everything, you are bound by nothing
live the life that is given to you"

This is not some holy book talking about karma. Its from a badly made anime that attempts but fails miserably to be moralistic. Nevertheless, in a twisted sense, it does make sense and when I am skewed, I need such even more skewed quotes to strengthen my faith and hope in life.

I was depressed, depressed, depressed; boy! I am so used to this feeling that I know exactly when it starts. So what do I do? I watch reruns. And what better rerun than Saiyuki. I know whoever is reading this should feel like strangling me but before I die let me say it to my hearts content. "Saiyuki, saiyuki, saiyuki..."

This anime has taught me the biggest lesson in writing. Never mind the story, never mind the settings, never mind the quality; if the characterization could touch an emotional cord, then you have a winner. Saiyuki is the best example. Most of the time, the drawings are like that of a 3 year old gleefully scribbling over the screen with no specific inspiration in mind. The animation is crude with the characters posing for web tops more often that moving at all. A single line plot that even Son Goku would mock at. The setting is down right stupid and timeless in the sense that one minute its the ancient times when they dressed like museum pieces and the next you are watching an advanced scientific experiment complete with lots and lots of wires and tubes running around like a scifi.

But why do people still watch it? Coz it shows deranged men who are very near their emotional doomsday rise up to survive when threatened. Well the rest of the time they bicker but still someone had a spark of brilliance when they came up with these characters.

I wish I get a spark like that and also some more sense to do justice to it.

The shape of my heart

The shape of my heart, or rather head that acts like a turbulent sea during an emotional storm, is a box. Its not just a box but a series of boxes. Every time I meet someone and get to know them enough to save in memory, they get a box; sort of a welcome kit. I put their specific content in the box and file it away. Now an important property of this box is that it can expand if the relationship grows; a phenomenon that rarely happens but when it does, I need the box to grow.

I notice that most people tend to try and replace people in their hearts (figurative). Now, there are two major disadvantages to this.

• People already living in a plot wont like to quit. Ever tried to break up with a boyfriend or girlfriend and start afresh?


• The unreasonable expectation that the person replacing the old one should fit into the space given for the previous owner.

I found this system too boring and annoyingly inefficient. So I came up with the infinity box system. All I have to do is create a new box and put them in there. The advantages of this system are:

• You don't have to go to the trouble of hating someone or forgetting someone to create space inside one box.


• When you want to ignore someone you just don't look up their box.


• The organized boxes make it possible to keep relationships independent of each other. You don't have to follow the "my friends enemy is my enemy" rule.


• Even though you keep relationships in a box, you are not inside a box. You are free and infinite like what we call God.

Now there is just one question you all want to know right? Where is the space? Well there is a whole lot of space left barren while we put ourselves inside the same single box with everyone else. Out of it you are free to govern your relationships with a clear head.

Birthday!

Yesterday was a great day for me. I finally learnt to celebrate my own life. Though it was nice when friends and family wished me well, the most happiest moment was when I sat down for dinner with the most charming person I had ever known. The food was great and the company was even better.

This person thinks like me and shares my passions. With an unfailing sense of humor, the half an hour we spent was the most entertaining part of the day. I decided then and there that come what may, this person is going to stay with me for life. I proposed and like all true love my darling agreed to be there for me, all the time and never leave my side. To celebrate our agreement, we sang "happy birthday to me" over my favorite Ice cream, chocolate.

I got a few curious glances when I smiled to myself all the while. But who gives a damn anyway; I finally learnt that I am my own best friend.

Who wants to be happy?

I discovered a surprising fact yesterday. Given a choice to write the script for their own life, very few actually make it sweet and sugary. After all how many of us say that we want to sit in a big house with a cool spouse and everything we want and live life happily ever after. Very few if you ask me. Some of the prefered story lines range from that of a king who fights and wins grim battles. A highflying (literally) superhero who fight vicious villains and of course wins in the end to down right smart heroes and heroines who start out as paupers and later on struggle to make it big. My personal favourite is to live in a well-stocked (with food) library that has all the books in the world and a life time to read all of them; though not many share my down right boring preferences.

I believe that the underlying difference between existing and living is a kind of awareness towards ourselves and whats around us which results in an urge to change. What makes people to be so alive in their dreams and merely exist in reality? Is it the shackes of society that would laugh at someone who would wear a unique costume and fight crime? Is it the belief that dreams are the opposite of reality?

By the way, if no one seems to be satisfied with having everything they want, then what does make us happy? Is it owning what we want or is it doing what we want?

Guess thats questions enough for a day.

Long live saiyuki!

After a week of agonizing emptiness that followed after breaking up with the only sentimental attachment I have ever formed with a fellow human being in many years, finally I am back on track. Its good to get back to the "yeah yeah yeah! whatever (yawn)" mode and it feels like heaven.

After aggressively arguing that its all my fault, the source for all my troubles came back one full circle and we are back on talking terms. Strangely, i don't feel bitter. Now it all seems like its for the best. I feel free, liberated and happy again. No worries, but just living my life each day at a time. In fact the more I talk to him the more I feel an urge to do something nice for him.

But still this is not the most important thing in life now. Whats important is Saiyuki. Boy what a show. I completed watching all the episodes of saiyuki and it was soooooo cooool! Wish I can wander the earth like the guys, albeit with better company. But there is something about tortured souls with attitude that is simply irresistible to my gloomy head.

Now that I have seen em all, i am going to see them again and again and again.....

Diwali!

Tomorrow is Diwali, although I am not celebrating this year as a mark of respect to my grandma who passed way recently, I can still feel the nervous energy festivals like Diwali bring.

The festival of light, the most expensive Indian festival and a diabetic's nightmare - what makes this festival so special that it has surpassed all other festivals in their pomp and splendour. I guess the answer is its pure fun. It has a bit for everyone, sweets, cloths, crackers all the vices in one shot. It gives license to enjoy and celebrate life without inhibitions. I opens our hearts to see everyone in a friendly light. Not to mention the lights, not the artificial ones that camouflage darkness but the small oil lamps made of the earth with their small specks of light bravely carving a space for itself in the dark. I always liked to watch these little lamps, the shifting trance like dance between light and dark. It never fails to remind me of our own internal struggles.

After all life is like that isn't it. Its not about covering up the worst sides of ourselves but with facing our own demons and fighting for our beliefs, no matter what the world says.


By the way, 'tamaso ma jyotirgamaya' doesn't it sound like 'let there be light'?

Adoption or adaption

When I tell people that I want to adopt a kid rather than have one on my own the response is invariably one of the two, "do you think you are mother Theresa?" or "do you have a psychological problem?" Boy! what a world. Here i am trying to do myself and someone else a favour and look what people say? "Whats your problem? Why should you pay for someone else's mistakes?" Well, when did the biggest obsession since food become a mistake. Problem is most think that majority is right, if you aren't in the majority you are wrong.

For this I am branded as a weirdo or a smart ass who is making a mistake and doesn't know it yet. Well, first of all, why is having a baby on your own different from adopting a baby? Except for your genes which don't count much anyway what else is unique about the baby you chuck out on your own into the world. One of the weirdest and popular answers I have hard so far is "the pleasure of bearing a child for 10 months and then giving birth to a life is special." Tell this to a woman suffering from morning sickness for ten months, tell that to a woman who is almost dying in the process of giving birth. Which moron decided that its pleasure? If you can't see the life that is already around you, what makes you eligible to create one on your own?

Another popular answer is "my children are always special to me because they are mine". I can see where such parents are heading. Exactly fifteen years down the line, they will be going into cardiac arrest when their son or daughter come home with a date. They are mostly the kind who treat children like property, 'we made you so we own you' types.

A very popular answer with the ladies and a surprising large number of men too is, "a woman is complete only when she becomes a mother." Boy! then what are we till then? and what about woman who cannot or don't? There is only one response I ever give to this statement and thats a good laugh.

What I don't understand is, when you can love a stranger enough to sleep with him or her, why cant you love and care for a child who doesn't have a home.

One of the most funny answers I have heard though is this "because that's what everyone does". The person who gave me this answer went on explain that if 99.9% of the population does that then it should be the right choice and since no one adopts, it should be wrong.

I never dreamt of arguing with this guy because I was afraid. A few words with this species could cause damage to your mind you know.

What am I doing?

Sometimes, even the most ardent pessimist can slip his guard and just for a moment become optimistic. I have never been one to believe that love is all that people say it is. At least not the street variety sold on the streets everyday. But even geniuses make mistakes.

Last week my parents brought home a prospective groom who looked sane enough at first glance. He seemed to really like me and so I took it upon myself to call him and tell him that I am not the "athaan, ungalukkaga naan uyirayae kodupaen kind" and that I would love to adopt a baby and see the world and live a good life. And if he is okay with such an attitude he may proceed. He was surprised but said he expects love and understanding and support in his endeavours from me and the rest is my wish. I was really impressed.

That night we talked and the next day too. He said he really loves me and would never force me into anything even though his parents may not like the adoption idea. I told him that if he is okay with it, then we can face the problems later. He said its fine with him and laid the foundation for us talking even more and I even went out with him twice. Meanwhile, he conveniently chose to tell my ideas to his mother.

After two weeks, he comes back and says, "you give up on your adoption plans and only then I can marry you." I was flabbergasted and I asked him why he agreed in the first place. Pat came the reply, "I thought I can convince you." Till then I never thought I can fall in and out of love so fast.

I think I made the worst mistake in my life by falling for a moron like that and now, if only I can find a way out.

I will :-) I always have.

How I bought my violin?

There are somethings in life that are just not meant to be. You feel almost feel a cosmic power trying to push you off your chosen path. Well, the way I bought my violin was one such experience. Even though I was thinking of taking my dad along to buy my violin, somehow it was not meant to be. In the end, I had to go alone. I went to a famous musical instruments show room one evening and the minute I entered I felt my hair standing on ends, one of those times when you get goosebumps for no reason. I walked into the violin section and met this expert. He was sitting like a sage waiting to enlighten me. A knowing smile and a nod now and then, thoughtful pauses that made you hang in space for just a few seconds; had it been fantasy, I would have called him the keeper of the destiny of all the violins in the world; in real life he was aptly called master.

He asked my budget and then carefully took a Chinese violin. I liked it and asked it to play a tune, but I wasn't satisfied. Another piece was brought out from a dusty storage room and I knew that was it. When the case was placed in front of me and gently opened, I felt like I was witnessing something as magical as the prince of darkness waking up from a long slumber. When I shyly touched the surface, I felt a shiver of anticipation run up my spine. I had eyes only for it and I felt he was saying something to me. First I thought a violin could only be a she, what with all the curves and the screeches when played badly, but then I changed my mind when i saw this piece at close range, beneath all that delicate features, there was an underlying strength and resistance. I knew I have to win every bit of music out of him. When the master tuned him and started playing a sample, i felt mad with jealousy. I picked up a book on some basic tunes and walked to the counter.

This is where I think my luck ran out. There was something wrong with the card swipe machine and they asked for cash, I didn't have any cash but just my card and when they, rather rudely, asked me to draw some cash somewhere and then comeback, I was sad, angry and bewildered all at the same time. The master intervened on my behalf but there was nothing to be done. The woman in the counter simply called to an assistant at the back and said, "take this inside," I felt a sudden lump in my throat, I couldn't swallow. Hastily, I ran out of the shop and got into the waiting auto that had brought me there. From there on for nearly 5 mins my mind refused to accept the situation, but even so I was getting furious by the second. What was a lump in my throat had melted and evaporated into rage.

Regardless of the time or place, I instructed the auto driver to go to another shop on the other side of the city. Inside my heart I screamed at fate, "I wanted to buy a violin and I will, whatever you do I will not go home without it." The traffic was unusually heavy, we were stuck in every signal possible and we lost our way, but eventually after an hour's struggle, we made our way to the shop. It was a small shop and while the auto driver leaned back with a sigh, exhausted, I walked up the stairs into the shop with great conviction. I told myself, "if its meant to be like this, it will be", all the while not believing it a bit."

There was no master here, the whole place was cheerful and people walked around the brightly lit shop as if they were children in a toy shop. An assistant walked up to me and asked me what I wanted, when I told him, he just pointed to a rack on which were hanging several violins. I picked up one and asked the assistant to try it, surprisingly, he said he doesn't know how to and worst of all none of them did. In fact, I was the expert there as I am at least one session old. I picked a few and placed them back and then finally chose one of them. No vibes nothing, probably I was too hooked up and regretful about not getting my first love. I bought the same book here too and the violin was five hundred rupees less than the one I chose in the other shop. Without much fanfare I bought the violin and started heading back home. All the way, I was having mixed feelings. I still question if it would have been wiser to have just drawn the cash and gone back to the first shop. I regreted that i wont see the master again and most of all I cursed myself for not getting what I felt was waiting just for me.

Once back home, I stepped into my room and locked the door. I opened the case and took out the violin, he wasn't as light as my first love but he was good. He had a kind of coolness and serenity that seemed to calm me. As I took the bow and applied the rosine, I felt a kinship with it. Here was one who was considered not good enough by his own owner and yet when I tested the bow on the strings, it pulsated with a kind of hopefulness and abandon that made me forget everything else.

I have found one of my own kind and just before I went to bed, I kissed him on impulse and smiled. We have a long way to go together and tomorrow will be brighter than today.

Boooooorrreeeeeeeeddddddddd!

This is one of those days when I say bored I say it with emphasis, like boooorrreeeedddd. My new office is a boring place. I feel like I am sitting inside zombie land. Rather, Zombies who can communicate only through con calls or sametime. Why is it so hard for people to talk face to face. What has society come to. People talk non stop all day; they talk over the phone, they chat and they mail but they seldom seem to notice the guy sitting right next to them.

Well, for all my antisocial behaviour, its really hard to find someone to rub the wrong way. I haven't found any form of society yet, barring my buddy who is smart enough to steer clear of irritant statements that I throw at him. I am so bored. I am itching for a good fight and that is exactly what I need to brighten up my day.

I think I should call some of my friends!

The voice of the violin

I joined a violin class and for the first time, touched and felt a violin. To someone who doesn't care to know, a violin is just a hollow piece of wood with a few strings attached. But for me, my new violin is alive. The first time I held the bow and pulled it against the string of the violin, what emerged was a screeching wail. I hope it will soon learn to talk.

Every time I watched my precious violin, I could feel the presence of bygone ages and places. The tree that should have given the wood, the horse whose hair adorns the bow, the artist who made it and the ship that carried to Indian shores. Wow, here lies a story that's all the more fascinating coz I will never know it.

Concentration camps

Today I woke up to the sounds of alarm. I did not want to face the day but I knew I have to. After the customary bath in disinfectant, I ate the same oats gruel I have been drinking for some time now. Without sugar, it was awful but it was breakfast anyway.

I was a fraction early in getting ready today. Each day I am becoming more and more adept at the routine. I had a few minutes to spare before my pickup would drag me to the camp. For a brief moment, I contemplated escape but I knew that was futile. When I don't step out on the road after the second honk, frantic calls would be made, officials alerted, and before I cross the next road, I would be traced and nabbed. All I would earn is a black mark in my monthly report. I opened the heavily censored newspaper; I found four instances of bombings of which two were suicide bombings and the glorious victory India in bowl out cricket. The bombing did not shock me and the victory did not inspire me; so, I folded the paper and set it aside; life seems to be as miserable for everyone as it if for me. I wanted to get an head start and maybe finish up in time to eat supper at home. But my pickup van had other plans. It was ten minutes late when it finally pulled into the street. I hate these daily rides. Poeple are packed so tight that you feel the fear and the despair crawling under their skins.

Our camp is an imposing one, infact it's the largest camp in the entire country where more that 15, 000 Homo sapiens labor their lives out. I showed my ID card and was let in. There was talk on the floors that a few people were stopped at the gate and they never returned again. My job in the camp is to keep tab of mails and sometimes assist in book keeping. Most of the others worked on assembling parts or generating codes and it was worse for them as they were monitored all the time.

Lunch was a weak atempt by the over-worked cooks at optimization-potato boiled, par boiled and nonboiled. Nevertheless, no one seemed to notice. There was a slight murmor among the rebel faction but even they have lost hope in fighting for such things.

As the day progressed everyone grew tense as the calls for extra time will be made. When the general did not make his usual rounds at 4.00 pm, everyone sighed in relief, after all we will be allowed to drag our weary selves home by 6.00. But it was not meant to be, the general made his rounds at 5.00 PM and was even more aggressive owning to his irritation with the minister whom he had met an hour earlier.

I shrank back in fear as he passed by and that seemed to please him. I was quickly pulled out of the line and put on the production floor. When I walked home my fingers were sore and my eyes were blurred. I was hungry but was too tired to eat. As my tired body hit the bed I prayed for a good dreamless sleep. My last thought was "things haven't changed much since the Nazies; While people were forced into concentration camps by the Nazies, today, I am forcing myself into something similar by my own choice. Does choice make so much of a difference between right and wrong?"

Days of a different kind

I did not hold a job for exactly four days. At least it was a break between my past and future job. The surprising thing is I didn't enjoy it. I was so uneasy and restless all the while. Took of to Chidambaram for a 2 days but rushed back as I was bored.

I know retirement hits people hard, but this is just a temporary break and I am only 26!

My first message to you.

I don't know who you are yet and I don't know when I will get to know you. But the day I find you, I will show you this. The fascinating worlds I have been to, the awfully short thoughts that run through my mind and disappear like the whiff of a smoke, the sudden surge of pleasure when I see something beautiful.

One day, I will meet you in Neverland, and this will be my gift to you.

Till then this will be a record of my flight.