Indian babies are born out of Love, not sex.

I am an Indian baby. I was born out of love not sex because sex is only how western kids are born. Us Indian babies are born out of immense love and respect between a man and a woman...oh sorry, a husband and a wife I mean. Of course you can't have sex before marriage, even if it makes you a 30 year old virgin.

Any baby who is born to an unmarried mother will be subjected to humiliation because there is no such thing as a single mother. If a woman was raped and unfortunately got pregnant, she would be married to the guy who raped her because one punishment was not enough for her. After all it was probably the woman who dressed provocatively or flirted with the rapist. It is all her fault.

But obviously I have a father who loves my mother. I respect my father because I am shit scared of him, he can beat me to pulp if I don't do as he says. My parents know that Indian babies are immune to physical and mental abuse, so no matter how much wrong they do to me I will turn out to be just fine.

If you ask my father why he loves my mother he will tell you one thing "because she is the mother of my children". Yes, he does not love my mother because she loves him and she has been with him through thick and thin, he only loves her because she was fertile enough to have me.

He also loves my mother because she can keep her mouth shut while he sleeps around with other women. That is of course the mark of a good wife, no matter how much a man cheats or abuses, Indian woman will not complain because she has a family honor to protect and this is solely her responsibility, not men's. He is free to do whatever he likes, especially if he brings enough money in the house then the woman should be grateful.

My mother knows the only reason her man has gone astray is because he is under black magic. My father is so innocent that only the supernatural can ruin his devotion to my mother. Obviously the girl he sleeps with is a witch and she is only after my father because..well...who wouldn't want such a wonderful man.  She is probably after my father's money. I am sure they are not in love because Indians know that after marriage there can be no attraction towards anyone else but your spouse, even if they haven't had sex since stone age.

My mother knows one day he will return to her because she has been a good wife. She brought me to life. Out of love of course, not sex.

Even if I was born out of sex by mistake, it was done only in missionary position.

PS - This is not my story, this is a story based on few things I have observed. I am not talking about my mother, believe me she is not so helpless....on the other hand she will kill me if I write about her personal life. 

Sorry, you are too Andamani for me.

I have mentioned before about the recent very important event at my place, that was my sister's wedding. Now that it's over I have a bunch of new "relatives" and formalities to attend to. Few days back me and my family were invited for a dinner at one of my Uncle's house. For the sake of this post let's say he is Mr.S.

I have known Mr.S and his skinny wife for a long time now. Always ready to help, kind and very local Andamani in my opinion. Mr. S works for the money and Mrs.S works for Mr.S and their daughter, who goes to the same school once I went to.

After parking the car we walked down a narrow pathway and reached a house that was suppose to be 80 years old. My father says he used to come here when he was a kid.

It is your average Andamani wooden house. Old and dingy on the outside and colourful on the inside, usually decorated with mismatched and religious ornaments . So it was green and there was a wall hanging in every corner inscribed with Urdu or Arabic.

We were introduced to the couples father who was apparently losing his memory and kept getting confused about our identity. And then he asked my mother, "So where is your youngest daughter?". My mother pointed at me. The old man looked at me for sometime and croaked  "How much do you eat to look like this?"

Seriously? You ancient old creature, I felt like retorting, which I did subtly.

Soon we were shown the huge kitchen which had a  light and airy feeling to it, quite opposite to the rest of the house. Mrs. S proudly showed every details of her kitchen and with all honesty, it was spectacular. So all the females sat in the kitchen gossiping and discussing recipes and I observed everything quietly. Typical.

Dinner was served, and oh what a wonderful dinner it was. That made me happy. But my happiness was short lived.

After the dinner Mrs S, my newly married sister and Mrs.S's daughter talked about how wonderfully mature my sister is, and what a lovely family she married into and all that jazz. Since cooking is all Mrs. S can think about she started to advise her daughter to grow up and help her in the kitchen. And then she turned at me and said "it's about time you learn this too".

My smile disappeared but I regained my composure, quickly fake-laughed and said "I live alone, who do you think does my cooking?"
And all of a sudden it hit Mrs. S that I actually have grown up. Of course it takes a genius to look at me and figure out that I am not 10 years old.

My mother always asked me why I don't like visiting people. The truth is as much as I would love to, I cannot deal with the drama, the questions and the presumptions.
Who doesn't love being treated like pre-teen or teased about their weight by a cranky old man? I have to be crazy to ignore their existence, right?

I respect Mr and Mrs. S for their staid Andamani-ness and all the lovely social work they do but I like to keep a distance. Maybe I am too sensitive or too blunt or both. I really have no valid excuse.

Beach at Ross Island 

What's your age again?

It came as a shock to me when my 9 year old cousin and his friends found a song with profanity 'funny'. Aren't they too young to even know what these words mean. I had no idea about curse words when I was that young, it took me couple more years, and I was not a goody goody kid either. 

But my cousin is not the only person who is not acting their age. Teenagers are so worried about their love life and relationship status that they change it at least once a month on Facebook. I can say this because I am not a teenager anymore. But really I haven't changed my single status from past few years, only because I am too paranoid to be in a relationship. 

Alarms in my head rang when my friends got involved in a live-in relationship and my sister got married. This can't be, everyone is with someone and I am on my way to afterlife alone with no one but 7 cats surrounding my deathbed.  Next thing I know I am watching Sex and the City in my room with a tub of ice-cream. 

I am kind of like my 9 year old cousin. If he can understand the meaning of those swearwords then I can too watch woman twice my age moan about men and botched botox. 

If Justin Beiber can sing songs about break-ups and Willow Smith can have the same stylist as Rihanna, maybe the relationship between age and sex is not what it used to be. Actually, drop the 'maybe'.  

Turning 20

Yesterday (12 Dec) I turned 20.

Yes, I am not a teenager anymore, so I guess it's time to stop being bratty? Probably not. Some people are ageless. 

Saying that, I would miss the advantages of being a teenager. I feel like it's easier to get things done when you are 19. 20 feels boring. I'll work on changing that. 

There is another event taking place at my house, a very important one and I feel deprived of attention I usually get. But of course, I can't always be in limelight. I am not Micheal Jackson. 

I told my family to not give me any gifts and donate the money towards charity. Obviously that did not work, I still got gifts. I realized even though I have become less 'materialistic' over the time, or just that my priorities are not my barbie dolls anymore, my parents have not grasped that idea yet. Not that they are materialistic, they are used to spoiling me. 

I have all that I need. If I needed more, I'll simply ask. 

The thing is, I am picky. If I don't like a gift, then I don't want it. I know! ' a gift is a gift' blah blah.  But I don't want it. That should count as something. 

And that's why I feel it's much better to invest that money for the good. It would have made someone very happy, could have changed someone's life. 

I told my mother, if you want me to do something for my happiness, join in my purpose. Help me spread some light and love around. I think she got it. 

Obviously, everyday should be so. But birthday's are just special, aren't they? 

A Cuppa Tea

It is a known fact (among my near and dear ones) that I can get very cranky. Usually when I get cranky I throw my sensibility out of the window and become a self-important bitch. Sad, but true.

That is one reason I didn't feel like blogging, why bother writing when I am unsure of my own self, battling with such mood swings that would even embarrass a bi-polar at their worst.

I admit, I have been a cranky meanie baby today. I have sent back my tea two times. I sent back the first cup of tea because I  felt it was an injustice to look over the fact that my cup is only half filled just because there are guest in the house and they deserve all the attention, then I sent it back again because the tea tasted too liquidy. So a fresh batch of tea was made.

I could still hear Sensible Self  (the one I tried to murder by throwing it out from the window) saying in a broken and faint voice that I was being stupid and all this imperfections are in my mind. Apparently it had survived the blows from my mood swings.

As I sipped the third batch of tea, it was still not perfect. It just didn't feel right. I wanted another batch. But I gulped it down anyway.

"It's not the tea, it's you", said my Sensible Self.

So I stopped at the third batch.

Also, my family has been extremely kind to me by enduring my mood swings, if I push them too much, they will eventually decide to kill me off and say it was an accident.

PS : Currently my Sensible Self is still a little wounded and is in recovery. A trace of bitchiness may remain for few days until my sensibility is up and working.

Writer's Block

I am suffering from writer's block.

I guess I need a break to collect my thoughts and get it sorted. I don't know how long this break will be, maybe a minute or a week. Hopefully not more than a week or my writing ability is as good as gone.  Right now my thoughts are too random to bring it out in the open and actually make sense.

It's not like there isn't any inspiration. There are plenty, I just lack the capability to put them into words.

 "This too shall pass." Hopefully.

The Mirror

Every part of my body is giving up. Twelve hours of flight makes me cranky and now my next flight was cancelled, nothing seems to be going right and I need a place to escape. The only place I could think of is the bathroom. I open the door and the strong scent of toilet cleaner makes me sick. A wall of mirror had been lazily cleaned, I can barely see my silhouette.

I rush towards the nearest full view mirror trying to ignore the stink coming out of open toilets that needed serious repairing. An Indian woman is standing in front of the mirror. I hate this woman, why can't I just have this mirror to myself? Put that cheap lipstick in your bag and get out of my sight.  

I adjust myself in whatever place I can find, cursing under my breath I pull out my trusty hairbrush. I see some of my long black hair stuck in the middle of bristles. Great, this is what I need, a prove of me slowly moving towards baldness. I pull the hair out and throw them away carelessly on the ground quickly but in a casual motion so that it goes unnoticed by the woman in front of the mirror.
Brushing my hair i look sideways to see if she is finished with her make-up so i could polish myself and head out to the get the security procedures done. I look at her, and she looks at me.

Oh! what is that? Is that a smile on her face. I automatically smiled back and then looked at her, with no judgement and pure curiosity. She is beautiful. Her dusky skin is glowing and her dark black hair is tied up elegantly in a bun. Eyes lined with khol and a hint of red lipstick on her full lips. She applied her sindoor, meddled with her Sari and smiled at her reflection looking content. After collecting her things, she looked at me smiling and walked off leaving the mirror and me. Finally the mirror was all mine, I searched for beauty in my reflection, inside and out.

Why did I hate on her before, she seems nice. How many others have I hated and never known? For few seconds that seemed like eternity I felt small and guilty. I walk around with a wall built of my insignificant achievements that gives me the illusion of being better than anyone else. The truth is I am scared of being vulnerable. I am scared of being open and yet I cannot close myself. Even when I try to close the doors of my heart, the winds blow them open, light pours in and I stand mesmerized by the beauty I missed.

Universe, when I get consumed by the illusion around me and close my heart to your beauty, send the message through the wind again. 

Beyond Words

Words are the most unreliable way of communication. And yet it is the most used.

Ancient wisdom teaches that words are powerful, it manifests a sense of reality which thoughts and imagination can't attain by themselves. Words spoken out loud are affirmation to oneself.

When carefully chosen and gently spoken these strange noises seems promising, but they are easily accessible to liars, then how do I trust?

Music and dance can tell me stories. Eyes are the window of soul and silence speaks louder.

Then why do I let these words manipulate me? It leaves me in a state of mental chaos, misunderstood and confused.

The first time I looked in your eyes, our souls recognized each other. In a matter of moments a whole lifetime recapitulated.

And then we let words come between us. They trapped us. Like swords they clashed, tore through my hopes and dreams until I could fight no more.

A dagger buried in my heart has left a wound so deep, it is still healing, oozing dark memories.

 Let is flow. The last of darkness will drip down to nothingness. Let it go.

Image from Google

"All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players."

Image from Google

Shakespeare was a dramatist, he understood the fact that we all somehow feed from the drama we create in our life. Yes we all are actors. Our thoughts becomes actions and it's our actions that shape our life and of people around us.

Sometimes when I think of 'actors' I think 'fake' but the truth is we are acting constantly, if we don't than we are still, which maybe a more peaceful state of mind, but this is a place where change is inevitable and with change comes the drama. No wonder people who live 'simple life' always seem to be going nowhere and their life story sounds boring.

We get inspired by struggle and pain more, than just a simple and content life. Struggle and pain moves us and we love to be moved, when we move we come alive. Happiness touches us, we love the touch. But contentment can only we felt by the wisest of all, because it feels like nothing. And nothing is the hardest thing to digest.

I hear people whine and moan, they feel life is unfair and cruel but they are scared of dying, they know they sound stupid but they won't do anything about it. Why? Because we love the drama.
Sometimes a little drama is necessary it's a sign that things are changing. When we get uncomfortable that is when we start trying to find comfort, or we stay numb.  And numb is not the way to live.

Let me just say, I indulge in drama. It is fun. I sit and moan about how unfair life is. It makes me feel like a kid. But then I have to stop, too much indulgence is not good for mental health.

As an 'old soul' I know the the consequences of things and it is my responsibility to guide others. Sometimes I am laughed at, but it is a risk I am willing to take. I know when others are laughing, there is one person who can resonate with my words, hopefully they would hear me above all the laughter.

Yes, I still do drama just like when parents become child-like with their kid, because it's the best way to connect with the kid. They don't stop being parents and helping their child to grow, but it helps them to walk a mile in kiddie shoes. After all kiddie shoes are way more cuter and appealing than adults.

Drama is appealing. We Love it. We feed on it. 

Happy Halloween !

How I love Halloween!

Hope everyone is having a good time even if you don't celebrate it. Few years ago Halloween for me was just a Hollywood thing, until  I moved to U.K, and it was all real!

Some pictures to share (not related to Halloween)

And now one related to Halloween -

Made by me and my flat mate Kristy 

New World

I see you smile
I see you ascend to the sky
Light all around you like the breath of an angel

You make me want to fly
spread my wings and dive
into the ocean
through the fluffy white clouds

But before I take a leap
I have to make some wings
I have to take them to the other side

When I am done
I'll see you in the new world

Bollywood is in America, right?

Image from Google

I was listening to some Bollywood music when I saw this comment.

Dear Bollywood,

A word of advice. Please stop all the cheesiness in Bollywood movies. All this glitter, glam, and ghettoness does not make the movies any more interesting, "cooler", americanized.....whatever you are going for. In fact it is embarrassing! .Instead I Go back to your roots, or take a look back at the hindi movies from the 90s. Those were real true good hindi movies. This goes for India too. Us NRI's want to come to a India that is still India not something like the U.S.

Obviously my fellow youtuber here was feeling a little nostalgic and listening to new Bollywood song did not make him/her happy. So, what better way to express your feelings then to rant in the comment section?

Now I am not going to lie, sometimes I refrain from listening to Bollywood songs just because it’s too loud and you just don’t know what’s happening. There is an actor dancing with 10 other white girls, rapping like a black man in Punjabi, basically it’s a chaos in the name of music.

I am officially a NRI (non-resident Indian) but I don’t think like the nostalgic youtuber. One reason is I feel this person has been outside India for a very long time and a lot has changed since then. You will always remember of home the way you left it. Even when I leave my room and come back to find it clean I go berserk, so imagine if you leave your country and you come back to find it different.

But then it’s not just NRI’s is it? A lot of people don’t like this multi-cultural Bollywood. They wish it was all pure Indian , more songs running across the field, fake punching noises , the flowing saris yada yada yada. Bollywood is still making actors run across the field, only that the field is in Egypt and they are running around a pyramid. For some Indians this may be the only way to see pyramids (not like I have seen one in reality).

I don’t feel being ‘modern’ is wearing a tank top instead of a duppatta. But I do feel that tank tops are more comfortable. Lot of Bollywood movies are completely based in London, New York or Sydney, and why not? A lot of Indians have moved there as well.

They say movies reflect the society we live in. Bollywood movies only show the society Indian people have created. It was not created by the industry.  So I feel people should stop whining about everything being ‘westernised’ when they are the ones who are westernised (hello NRIs).

As for me, I am a child of globalisation, I love the old Bollywood classics and I also love the shining new ‘westernised’ Bollywood.

Why you should not date a Sagittarius man.

Let's talk about my favourite  topic - MEN! And this time it's extra special, it's not just men, it's fiery Sagittarius men.

On phone they are active, they talk a lot about anything and everything. They didn't hesitate to tell me their grande and noble ideals or what did they have for dinner.

And then, it's time for a date. The curtains are up! He is standing somewhere in the corner busy on his phone he looks at me and I expect a warm welcome. Instead he gives a small smile and starts walking next to me.

Dating him is like babysitting. He wants curtains to be closed, food to be perfect and halal, mind you. He is blunt and he misbehaves but the strange thing is, even though he is irritating the hell out of me, I can never really hate him.

As soon as I  think I have had enough and it's time to wrap up the show, he will do something very sweet and win me back again.

Once a Sagittarius man said to me 'I am looking for a nice relationship' and also 'I don't want to get married' all in one same night. I'm sorry what do you need a relationship for if you cannot even think of long time commitment? He has his reasons. He wants it so someone can close the curtains, bring him juice, order food for him (he will pay) and run around looking after him, while he sits and moans about everything.

When everything thing  is done  he will ask 'Why do you care about me?' and I have nothing to say. I didn't do it because I care, I did it because I am a nice person and I don't want to throw you out of my house. And also I think you are 5 year old kid in the body of a 20 year old boxer.

I crawl up next to him like a cat asking for affection and he looks uncomfortable, what is he so shy about we just had sex!

And then I remember, hey I am a Sagittarius girl! I probably bossed him around so he is scared of me, and I am so independent that the fact that he can't close a curtain by himself annoys me. And I should know, for us Sagittarius sex is easy, affection is not.

If Sagittarius men are baby, then Sagittarius women are little girls who try put their mothers lipstick and act all motherly only because she wants some attention.

Or maybe I just need a Gemini man who can talk to me all night long and still have some more left for next morning. But Gemini men are always available, as available as water in a desert.

Image from Google

PS: I am not responsible for your Sagittarius man's behaviour, he could be nothing like this. If he is exactly like my description then we probably dated the same man.

Warriors of Light

There is a group of soldiers
Unnamed and unknown
we fight for you, for us, for light.

We stand together
When we stand alone.
Each with a candle,
To show you the way.

We have many names and many faces.
Many causes and many tongues.
Careless wanderers and disciplined sons.
But when we unite,
We are the warriors of light. 

Click Click!

I did some random photography in my new room.

R.I.P Steve Jobs

Feb 24 1955 - Oct 5 2011

I don't even use Apple, but this guy here is truly inspirational. Adopted child, college drop-out nothing stopped Steve Jobs to leave a mark on the world. 

Just one of those stories which makes you realise if a man has made his mind nothing can really stop him. 

Jobs was suffering from cancer and passed away yesterday surrounded by his family. 

“Being the richest man in the cemetery doesn’t matter to me … Going to bed at night saying we’ve done something wonderful… that’s what matters to me.” [ Steve Jobs, The Wall Street Journal, May 25, 1993]

Coulrophobia

Last night me and my friends were talking over wine, cigarettes and cheese puffs when one of my friend brought up the urban legend of Lithuanian paedophile. Apparently everyone knows it and it is one of the reason why some people are mortally afraid of clowns, besides the fact that clowns are way too happy and that itself is kind of scary.

If you are not aware of the story, read it here, I insist. 

Today morning I was cooking downstairs in the kitchen, some good old eggs and bacon, and I remembered the paedophile clown. I had to look back my shoulder in every few seconds to check if I am alone and to think of it why on Earth will i fear a paedophile when I am not even underage anymore. Luckily my housemate woke up because the fire alarm decided to went off for no damn reason and I was saved from the non-existing clown in my kitchen. 

It's one of those stories that just get's you and leaves you bewildered. To get it out of my system I diverted my mind and did some photography just around my new room, I will post those pictures later, I don't want to post pictures of my room in the same place I talk about some European paedophile clown. 

Image from Google

P.S - If you haven't figured out yet, Coulrophobia is a fear of clowns. 

Enlightenment for Sale

Image from Google

A year ago I started looking at videos from a 'swami' or a 'spiritual master' in youtube (because youtube is not just for listening to Beyonce). He seemed wise, interesting, practical and funny. In noway I consider myself to be a follower of anyone, I have reached a point where I don't need a master but I learn more from within me and around me. But let's not go to my spiritual craziness, let's talk about someone else's. 

Few months later when I returned back to India, I came to know that this 'swami' was in a middle of a scandal for sexual harassment. And then more stories started coming out, that he is a fraud yada yada yada. 

This is not the first 'spiritual guru' who got involved in scandals, mostly something very sexual ones. Maybe because people consider sex to be very scandalous. You know the normal Indian mentality of 'sex is a taboo', yea sure mate, you were dropped in by angels on your mother's lap. I won't go there, that's a whole another story. But if it isn't sex, then it's money or fooling people with fake tricks. The list goes on. 

It's not unknown that in today's alleged 'fast-paced' world spirituality is a growing business. I understand when people make occult a business. Occult is basically astrology, tarot, witchcraft. I almost get it when people charge money for a tarot reading, because it's like a service you provide, it's not really charity . Please understand occult is a medium of spiritual connection. It's like buying a book to learn what's in it.

I read tarot cards, but I never charge for it only because it's not my occupation. I also don't do it all the time and for everyone, it can get very exhausting to keep constant connection with the guides and cosmos. So if astrologers and tarot readers ask for money and you believe in it, then it is justified, unless you are a fraud and you don't know anything about occult. 

But is it right to ask people money for 'enlightenment'?  What if Buddha did that? What if he went to houses saying 'give me 1 bag of rice and only then I will show you Nirvana'.  I am sure enlightenment is not like buying a book, it is not a service, it is a journey. Maybe someone wise can give you peace of mind, show you different side of the world. But does it make sense to give money to someone asking them to awaken you.  Remember that one Shri Shri ( multiplied by zillion ) whatever guru who used materialise gold chains out of thin air for the rich followers and ashes for the poor? If he was a master who could materialise gold chain then why not just give it all away and end poverty? 

I am not against people following others. There are different stages of a soul's journey and in one point everyone is, was or will be a follower, and then a master. But are people following the right master. Can you be truly enlightened if you are in the same loop as others, a loop of give and take or as we say 'business'. An enlightened soul will never ask for anything, he/she will seek nothing, but just be. His/her goal is not to help people or give them knowledge but that's happens along the way. They don't hold wisdom, they become it. 

I feel this topic has been raised by many, and this is why certain people always think anyone 'spiritual' is kidding themselves and anyone who says 'I want to help' is only trying to sound nice. There is no simple and plain goodness, just good business. That's a sad thought. 

Emotional Deadline

Image from Google.

We all have deadlines in our life, some professional ones and some emotional ones. Sometimes I feel it's easy to recover from professional deadlines but it's much more easier to ignore emotional deadlines.

I have a deadline for everything in my mind. Not because I am very organised, you'll just know how sloppy I am looking at my room. I have a deadline for university work, a deadline that warns me that I only have 10 cigarettes left and I need to buy more, a deadline for food, friends, men ...basically everything.

Right now I am dealing with an emotional deadline, it ends very soon and believe me it's a silly little thing, as silly as a needle that pricks me every time I try to deviate my mind. This certain someone who needs me reply me back soon or else my ego will take over me until I just can't hold my patience and put that someone's name under 'fail' list.

The thing is I can't blame on anyone but myself in these situations. In the end I am the one who is expecting something, and we all know what wise people say 'expectations is a key to a very sad life'.

But can people actually live without expectations? Even though my cosmic knowledge of things tells me that time is now, and now is all that ever is, was and will be, why do I expect things to happen? If my friends was going through the same thing I would give them some profound advice like 'you can't control someone else's action' or 'what will happen will happen' and all that is true.

It's also true that I cannot stop thinking about it, it's frustrating and I want it to happen now!

And since this person has no clue I have a deadline, it won't affect their behaviour. In time I will ignore my emotional deadline and with the leftover of hope I will set a new deadline. And so the loop goes on and on....even when I know better, it never stops.

Emotions are like water

Smooth surface of water
surrounded by what could be marble
black strands against dusty frame
floating carefree

Behind the dreamy eyes
are questions unanswered
emotions unattended
hopes still alive

Just like the water
neither here nor there

No matter how hard I try
I cannot hold it
but it still touches me
clinging on to my skin

Lets play the PEACE game !

Image from Google. Click to enlarge

This is seriously cool! And now it's my pc wallpaper.
Attaining peace is indeed a journey, of acceptance, love, empathy, awareness and all that good stuff!

What say, wanna play the peace game? 

Forgive, if you can't forget

I was talking to a young man today, and I don't know why I say it like I am 90. But since I don't want to reveal his identity, let's just call him a young man.

It all started with one sentence, like it always does, when I said -

"I respect everyone"

And a very obvious reply came from the young man - " you can't respect all, some people don't deserve it"

And while he is right in many ways, I still do believe there is at least one quality in all of us, no matter how mundane, it is worthy of respect.  But then there were questions like 'How can you respect killers and rapists?'

Maybe you can't respect them, they have caused a lot of pain. But I don't hate them and I don't wish them death. I think they need help. I say "in our head, we all think we are the good one" even though our actions say something else. But we all our convinced that we are good, we are fighting for a purpose. Like Hitler was a jackass, but he was convinced that he was doing everything for Germany.  Yes we can argue it was just searching a twisted way to get power, but in his head, and his supporters, he was a hero.

Now the young man tells me a little story, something he experienced. He tells me that a member of his family was a police officer and was killed by a terrorist. His son was only 20 days old when he died, he didn't even get to hold his child. The young man asks me how can I say the terrorist needs help and forgive him for causing such pain to his family.

Pain is such a thing, that any argument can turn into ashes, and all the reasons won't really matter. But I still manage to say, 'killing the terrorist won't bring back the father of 20 year old'. You can never reason the death of a loved one, whether it be because of a gun or a boomerang.

When I tell this conversation to the man who loves me he says 'you are stupid Ruhi, if anyone hurts you, you think I will let them go? Stop being a Gandhi'.

To cut the tension I say to him 'honey if someone kills me, you'll will throw them a party'. But I know what he means. Maybe you can forgive people who hurt you, but can you ever forgive someone who hurt the one you love? Isn't it much more harder?

Me, I am a pacifist. I stick to my ideals. But even so if someone every hurts the one I love, forgiving them will be the hardest thing to do. But I know will, and I have. Because I won't be consumed by hatred, this is a promise I made to myself.

This is what we have always done. Fight hate with hate, war with war when clearly the only thing that can defeat hate is love. And loving a sinner is hard, that is why we all are not Saints. If we can't love them, can we forgive them?

Killing the murderer won't bring back the dead, killing the rapist won't bring peace to the girl who got raped, only thing it can give is a sick satisfaction. That will put us on the same page with people who commit crimes, just for sick satisfaction. And it's easy, its barbaric. Lets just kill them all. Because forgiving is hard and painful. And we humans are taught to run from pain, we never accept it as a part of life.

The young man shows me two videos, one from India and one from Pakistan, of innocents being beaten up and asks me if it is practical to forgive them.

I look at the videos, and I look at the huge crowd looking at people getting beaten up, and the police who did nothing. I didn't know who to forgive, the police, the bystanders or the people with sticks beating up innocents. Nothing about it was practical. All I saw were people disconnected and unaware of the importance of human life.

We have been divided, and we continue to do that everyday. We are race, caste, countries, colours and languages. All we really are, just silly little humans.  So many reasons to hate one another, so many reasons which stops us from understanding each other.

We look at flags and deities and holy books, if we had looked into each others eyes, we would have known the truth, we are one. 

Let us try to forgive and heal our wounds instead of digging it deeper. You keep messing with the wound and slowly the infection will damage the whole body. Soothe it, heal it, forgive it.

I am now thinking of last words Jesus said when he was on the cross.
"Father forgive them, for they not know what they do"-  Luke 23:24
These words are traditionally called "The Word of forgiveness". We all need that, words for forgiveness, for those who hurt us and the one we love.

And to the man who loves me, if I get killed, please spare the murderer, take him to the psychiatrist maybe, that's all the torture he needs.

Image from Google

Thank you for making me

I came across Jason Mraz tonight, thanks to youtube, the source of all (well most of the) hidden talents in the world.

A beautiful song.

After you hear this, think about the things you are thankful for, the things you generally miss out.

 Everything in this world is helping us grow even when you don't notice them.  Look at people, places and things you miss out and see how they will inspire you.  Take some time out to thank the good and the bad in your life because they make us who we are.

I am just going to listen to Mraz and let him tell you the rest.

A Wanderer's Home

Yesterday evening me and my friends were sprawled on the grassy grounds of the park near our house, making up jokes and looking at dogs and their owners, trying to spot good looking guys who don't have their hands around  good-looking girls. I was just soaking up the beauty of the park when I looked at an almost-old, almost-balding man in navy blue sweater and black pants walking through the park to I don't know where, and shouted "OMG, he looks like Paulo Coelho".

That is how badly I am obsessed with Coelho, now that I think random strangers in the park can be him. I love him. I am not that much of a reader which is funny because I write for a living. But I can never pass a Paulo Coelho book. Whenever I read him, it's like I know him, like he is me. I love when that happens. I am sure he is not like me, he is not a 19 year old girl. But just his words resonates with my thoughts and ideals so much. 

I think the first book of his that I loved was Brida. I was into witchcraft then and I wanted to read about magick since no one around me was into it, so I wouldn't feel alone. Brida is a book which many don't understand, many who never practised magick. Everyone loves the Alchemist, I love it too. But Brida will always be my favourite. 

Over the summer I read Like a flowing river... and fell in love with that phase. Wonderful book, filled with short stories and profound as always. Currently, I am reading Aleph which I was lucky to find in Chennai airport bookshop. Aleph is amazing, any spiritual person will love it. 

I know some people who would read Paulo Coelho's work and say' life-changing', 'exploring the unknown' or 'he taught me so many new things'. But I am not one of them. To me his words are very reassuring. That I am not the only one who thinks and feel that way. I am travelling alone, but this path is walked by many, like him. 

For me, this world can be overwhelming, there are things I don't understand. Sometimes I feel I don't belong, but I am very much needed. And through all this, I remain a wanderer. His words are familiar because I speak them everyday, to myself and others.  His books are a doorway for me, a doorway to a world I know, unlike the one I have to face. When I read his words, it's the only time I am not questioning and searching, I am at peace. Like being home. But can a self-proclaimed wanderer ever feel at home? In the journey of my own and others, I sometime find home. 

Image from Google

“None of us knows what might happen even the next minute, yet still we go forward. Because we trust. Because we have Faith.”
- Paulo Coelho, Brida

"Logout" is the hardest button to click

Confession - I am addicted to facebook. Yes, I am. I have over 900 'friends' few ex's and of course my family. Sometimes my mom actually messages me on facebook asking me to come down and have dinner. You know you are addicted to facebook when you are chatting to your mom when she is just a hall away.

Like I mentioned I have my ex's on facebook too, why? Because I need to know what they are up to. I know, sick! But let me also add, I am the kind of person who does not hold grudges so I don't stare at their pictures mumbling curses under my breath. The worst I can do is look at their present girlfriend's picture and think 'ha! she is fatter than me' and then go to the gym to actually make that happen (like for a week).

I wonder how will I feel if my boyfriend (imaginary) dumped me on facebook without telling me. Obviously he is a jerk. I'll probably cry and get drunk and will be over it after a week or a month or a year depending on the relationship.

Here is this girl, this beautiful precious 23 year old Indian girl who killed herself because her jerk of a boyfriend updated his status something like this

"Feeling super cool today. Dumped my new ex-girlfriend. Happy Independence Day."

I don't think he realised repercussions of his actions. It's not the first time I am seeing a fb status like this. I see it everyday. Boys who are glad they dumped their girlfriend, girls who are convinced there is no love out there, or couples who announce their love everyday. 

A teacher I know (who actually passed this news to me) said "Are we not preparing our students to withstand the disappointments of life?" 

A very good question, a very important one actually and not much asked . For some reason our school system (especially Indian) deals mostly with academic prospects, that too if you feed them some money. But surely trigonometry cannot help you deal with the 'real' problems of life.  The one that keeps you awake at night. Trying to aim high we forget what ground are we standing on. A ground made up of family, friends, lovers and most importantly relationship with ourself. If that base is weak we cannot take off to the skies, can we? Who teaches us that? Sure we can take counselling. But how many people are brave enough to say 'I need help'. 

People shy away from talking on such matters and I understand why. That status made a girl suicide, it probably wouldn't have affected someone else so much. And who knows what other demons she was fighting inside. Maybe this break-up was the last strike.  Despite of her friends and family imagine how lonely she must have felt. Maybe she just needed to talk. If someone could have shared her pain, she would have been alive today, crying over some other man. 

But I am a believer in death, that it happens when it is suppose to happen. There are people who try to kill themselves and still survive because they just had to live a little more. Maybe her life is complete. 

We cannot bring back the dead, nor should we waste time in mourning over death, that only stops us and them from moving on. She already made her choice. But what can we do is think for people who are alive and in pain? 

I know it's a silly society we life in, where facebook can take a life, but never forget the people you add are real. They are more than just a profile. Next time your friend is crying over a guy you know is a jerk, talk to her, listen to her. Or you see your guy friend getting drunk over a girl, join him and make him see other things worth living for. Just hear them out. 

There are some of our friends who are so sensitive and a little naive, they need us. 

Issues like suicide can be scary, and no one really wants to talk about it, because sometimes it's just easy to talk about corruption and oil prices. 

Or you can just not add your boyfriend on facebook.  But that ain't happening. 

Tumblr is cool, Blogger is love!

From past few weeks I have been wondering if I should make a Tumblr. Why? Because, well, everybody seem to have one, and it looks cool. I thought of million reasons why it had to be made -

- I can post cool pictures that inspire me
- I can connect to the crowd who think blogspot is silly
- A new and improved pretty blog!!
- I get to be in the 'cool crowd' of cool people posting all the cool things!

O.K. i know that's not 'million', but they are valid.

So basically, what I'm trying to say.........isn't it so much more cooler than stupid old blogspot?

If only I didn't have the tendency to be 'loyal' to the things I use....I just can't get myself to leave this blog, or cheat on it with tumblr! Just cause everyone is doing it is not a good enough reason.

I LOVE this blog! It's like my little not-so-personal, available-for-all to read diary.

But of course, I just had to try making a tumblr, I just wanted to see....

And so I did, and I posted a cool picture, of this cool fashion photographer. That's all.

I tasted it, it wasn't that fun. I wanted my blogspot back.

Even though I am a person of clock, and I change with time, and adapt new ways, but I still like to return to something i know and love, like a sailor returning home.

Like a Blogspot?

PS : Don't be surprised if I go for tumblr, I am loyal yes, also flaky. I know they are kind of extremes, shoot me! 

1 Indian, 1 Iraqi and 6 boxes

image from google

All moved in into my new house, shifted my things from the storage, now the only challenge is to fit my 3 years worth of stuff into my tiny room. I got no idea how it's going to work out but I know I'll manage somehow because there is no other choice.

I called in to hire a man and a van to help me move my things from the storage. The driver called me to say he was stuck in traffic, so we are running 2 hours behind, thank you London traffic! When I reached my storage place there was a fair, dark-haired, medium built, middle-aged man waiting for me, who greeted me with a thick middle-eastern accent and a very sweet smile.  Later I found out that he is from North Iraq.

We emptied my little storage cube and I got to sit on the big van to take my stuff back to my house. Boy! that was fun. To break the silence, on the way back to my house we had a little conversation. The first thing he asks me is if I have a boyfriend. No, regardless of people may think, I don't think he was 'flirting' with me, the man was just curious.  You see a young girl in U.K. sorting out her stuff alone and you wonder all these things.

Oh! wait no, the very first thing he asked me is if I was married. I replied ' I am 19' with a laugh. One reason I said that is because obviously most 19 year old girls are not married and if they are they won't be booking a stranger to help them move their things, they would be making their husbands slave over it. Second reason is because soon I will be 20 and I want to enjoy saying 'I am 19' in the little time I got left.

Anyway back to the Iraqi, he interrogated me a little more and I politely answered all his queries without giving out too much information, but really there is nothing to fear, if he wanted to stalk me he bloody well can, he knows my address and my number. He tells me that his cousin is married to an Indian woman, which is always a nice thing to hear, I love it when two people from different cultures and country get together.

It's funny because earlier my friend/housemate joked what if the man I hire to move my things is the love of my life. Well, I have to say, that did not happen. The chances of me getting with a middle-aged Iraqi is very less, and the only reason I say 'very less' is because I believe more in 'never say never'.

My van driver did his work and retired with a smile. If I didn't had to pay him, I would have called it a disappointing date. End of the day I was still single, with six boxes and £60 less in my Marc Jacob wallet. 

Mad Chicken and the Golden Eggs

So I am back in U.K. now, back to green lawns and unpredictable weather, to friends and ex's. I haven't even completely moved in yet, half of my things are still in storage and i am down with sore throat and fever, probably because of the weather change.

My dad just called me to see if i am alright, usually my family checks on me few times in a week, but now that i am kind of sick, the doctor and parent in them won't rest in peace if they don't talk to me everyday. But everytime my dad calls, he has this strange note of worry in his voice, it always bothers me. I have been out of India for 3 years now, it's not like i am completely naive about living alone.

Is it just a 'dad' thing? Or maybe it's just his voice, i don't know maybe i am imagining it to be worrisome because i always think they are over-protective of me. But let me assure you that my mother and father are the most liberal parents ever, it's just that no amount of freedom was ever good enough for me. If it was upto me I would forever roam around the world and not care about anything.

I would travel to different lands, meet new people, stay at caves and sleep under the stars. And then I would move to another land. Maybe it's my zodiac sign (Sagittarius) that makes me think like a nomad. But still when I feel hot I want an a/c or when I am cold I put on the heater, I wonder if I was a nomad I would have survived the hot desserts and the chilly nights.

"He who is really happy is happy everywhere, in a palace or in a cottage, in riches or in poverty, for he has

discovered the fountain of happiness which is situated in his own heart. As long as a person has not found

that fountain, nothing will give him real happiness.” ~Hazrat Inayat Khan

I wonder what will make me happy,maybe it's a fountain that I haven't found yet. But something tells me that nothing can 'make' me happy, I can just be it.
I see people saying 'oh if I get those shoes I will be so happy' or 'if I can get a rich husband and a nice house my life is set, I will forever be happy', but once they get that, they will chase after other things that they feel will make them 'happy'. This is how we get caught in a vicious loop of finding something that is already there.

Maybe we all are running around eyes closed,  like a mad chicken, to find the golden eggs, oblivious of the fact that we are the one producing it.

Living in the moment

I was just going through my Facebook reading my 'friends' statuses the usual heartbroken quotes, relationship crisis of a 14 year old, fashion parties and the most popular kind of quotes - the free advice.

There are thousands of quotes, saying this is how you must live or that will only cause you trouble yada yada. The do's and don'ts of life, they say.
So many things to keep in mind, when do you actually live your life? We keep following these 'rules' to have a better life, and yet we never see, that the time is gone but all we have done is 'plan' to live our life but not live it. It's not like 'God' says "alright you plan now, get your life manual sorted and then I will start your clock". They say time and tide never waits for anyone. Time is free flowing.

There is just a moment and it's all we have, don't we?

Carpe praesenti ! Carpe Diem !

Feeling Facts

Sometimes I look at people and I can’t believe that they are being real. It just can’t be, you are fake I want to scream, but then who am I to say that, I don’t know them through and through , it’s just something I feel and we live in a world where facts are important than feelings, it’s fair I guess. You can’t always trust your feeling can you? They just might be induced because of jealousy or ego problem or a bad childhood…the list is endless really. So many reasons not to trust your feelings.

Let me tell you, I am a cry baby when it comes to movies. I have cried almost in every movie, sometimes in comedy movies as well, just because I saw a ‘happy ending’. But life shows you crap and now I don’t cry as much, trying to be a tough cookie or whatever, as Count Dracula says in Van Helsing ‘No! I have no heart, I feel no love. Nor fear, nor joy, nor sorrow. I am hollow... and I will live forever’(insert heavy European accent).

 I think the last time I bawled like a baby was when I saw Cast Away, I posted about that already.

Yesterday I saw I Am Sam, those of you who haven’t seen the movie it’s about a character named Sam Dawson (played by Sean Penn), a mentally retarded father of a 8 year old girl trying to get custody of his child because the court deemed him incapable of being a good father.  

Yes, he seems incapable with the mental ability of a 7 year old trying to raise a 8 year old girl who won’t stop growing mentally like he did. Imagine what she could have gained with having a ‘normal’ father. The only reason for them to stay together was their relationship which no one can change; the love they shared could not be replicated by foster parents. 

I’m not going to rant off about the movie, but here again it’s fact above feelings. It’s a fact in the court that he is retarded and a single parent. It is a fact that he really has no ‘normal’ and ‘able’ friends to help him out. His only reason to fight was - his feelings.

There is this scene in the movie that stood out, when the little girl is asked by lawyer if she thinks that any other family could cater to her needs much better than her biological father and she replies ‘All you need is Love’. Feelings over fact? Considering love is something that you 'feel'.

But then isn’t feelings a fact of life? Then why think so much to act on them?  What is this need to polish everything we feel to conform to society? Why are feelings so neglected and yet it’s the only reason we live and fight and survive, because we can feel. Pleasure or pain everything we feel propels us forward in life. That is a fact. If you were numb you would never move. 

If you haven’t watched this movie please try to. It’s a good one. 

PS – I cried throughout the whole movie.  Evidently I can't be like Dracula, I still am fascinated by him.

Drip Drop

I took these pictures few days ago with Sony DSLR A230, it is not my camera, i just borrowed it because i could not resist not clicking pictures in rain and i did not have my nikon with me. 

 PS : Please don't nick my pictures because i can and will sue you.

Machines and Men

There are days when everything I touch turns to gold, and then there are days like today, when everything I touch turns to goo.
I read the newspaper this morning and got inspired to write a post, so I run upstairs to my room open my laptop, press the start up button …..and nothing. It just won’t open. I tried to charge it, remove the battery and put it again…press the start up button with all my might…Nada.

All that inspiration got exhausted in the anger I felt at the moment…and I don’t even get angry anymore, but this time I was. I was pissed off. I just got this laptop repaired. Everything seems to be going wrong in my life, my love life sucks…my university is sucking the life out of me and I am still fat.

I called my dad and ranted out about my laptop and we came to the conclusion that it is indeed broken and nothing can be done unless it is sent out to the mainland because it cannot be fixed in Andaman Island, it’s a pain to live in an island when it comes to technology.

I asked my mom if I can borrow her office laptop (which I am using now) and she agreed but not before she reminded me million times not to be too careless and avoid any adventures with it, as if I take my laptop to bungee jumping with me.

With time the anger faded and I realized everything will be o.k. …things will work out, it won’t be easy but it’s not the end of the world.

I could buy a new laptop, but it reminded me of my love life. Laptops and Boyfriends can be similar…with time you get attached to them and maybe a little bit depended even, only that one day they break your heart and just stop working! But then you can always find a new one right? But for what? Getting a new one is not a lasting solution; someday they will stop working too. So, no point of making something or someone your whole life.

Some major insecurity huh…no really, I understand men are not machines. Even though sometimes it may seem like it, but still, they are not. Men are a little bit misunderstood to be honest. I feel people just expect so much from them, no one really understands or gives attention to the. Women, you know, are always center of attention, for good things and bad, but men…they can be a bit expendable. No one cares; they just say ‘Man up’ and move on. What is ‘Man up’ anyway?

I get it I can be careless, yes I can. But sometimes I honestly feel machines are conspiring against me. Yesterday my hair straighter just stopped working, it just won’t start just like the laptop…they both just won’t start. Then just now, my Nicky Clarke hairstyler ‘accidently’ pushed my makeup on the floor and almost broke it. What is that huh? I bet machines are just gathering somewhere and saying ‘oh so you are going to Ruhi’s house, awesome. She is easy, just stop working one day, see how mad she gets.’

Fine I accept maybe I knocked my makeup on the floor while keeping my hairstyler on the shelf, that is a possibility. But I did not screw up with my laptop and hair straighter, no sir. But it’s not unusual, machines tend to stop working around me. I’m telling you, it’s a conspiracy!! Terminator may just happen.

On the other hand men stop working around me as well….but that’s just life I guess



Image from Google



A Seeker, Wanderer and a Loner

The clock says it's past midnight

Night has spread it's veil on the city

Seeker needs to turn on the lights

Darkness can wait for sometime

The guide can never fathom

A wanderer's lack of direction

Everyone has places to go

But I am just an observer

Don't mistake my silence with sadness

I just want to wait and see

A loner never suffers with loneliness

It's a journey to within  

Hello September 2011 !!!

August was kinder than July, and now it's September! Time has flown by so fast. I learned a lot of things last month. A lot of time i spent travelling into the depths of my mind, dig out forgotten memories and feelings, and each time i have opened my eyes the world changed a little bit. That's the beauty of self exploration, in every breath you can see something that you never noticed, every moment can be intense and surprising. 

I loved all the lazy days when i laid back and just got lost in nothingness, it was pure joy. I also enjoyed the other days which were challenging, when old the ways and perspectives were renewed, and  i loved all the time with my family, every moment empowered me from within. 

I have already started packing my bags, I'll be leaving Andaman in a week, can't wait to get back to U.K. a little change of location always helps and i get to meet my lovely friends again. 

“Nobody can go back and start a new beginning, but anyone can start today and make a new ending.” - Maria Robinson

Thinking out of your ass

You must have heard about the term 'talking out of your ass' but have you ever heard about the term 'thinking out of your arse'? Probably not, because I just made it. If you have heard it before, or made it yourself and want to claim it, let me know.

Talking out of your ass is pretty easy to spot, we do it, many times we realise it instantly or maybe a year later and regret it. But thinking out of you ass is tricky, you just never know when you are doing it because there is no reaction to it. There you are making up your own stories in your head by combining a dozen of 'what if's' and 'maybe' distorting the reality all because you do not just have the courage to ask directly, so you do they next best thing, make an assumption.

And we keep feeding this ball of assumption by making up new stories everyday about why things are happening to us, whatever it may be.

I am a thinker, I think and think ….......and then think some more. So you see, for me this 'thinking out of your ass' thing is a easy pit to fall in.Something like this recently happened with me, where I was just thinking out of my ass, making up stories, because I was too scared to just get out there and face it. But eventually I did face it, only to realise it wasn't all that negative after all. I misunderstood, simple enough?

Next time, when you are in doubt, JUST ASK. You don't know the direction, just ask. Yes, sometimes it makes you look stupid, been there done that. But then better be a stupid who had the courage to speak up then a stupid who just stuck to a mere assumption.

Next time you see someone behaving strange, ask them how they are before assuming they are jerks, maybe they are troubled....maybe..just maybe..they are not that bad after all. Give people a chance to speak up before thinking on behalf of them.

After all, if your glass is full, can you pour in more? Sometimes it's important to turn off the noises in your head to listen what is really happening outside.

Just remember turning them on back too....balance my friend, is the key.  

Image from google

I got published!!!

My article got published in The Echo of India (Andaman and Nicobar)  newspaper. I am so excited about it, they also included a picture of me, mind you it's a pretty big one, i have been staring at it for a while now.

The article is called 'Red Lipstick'. It is basically about the pattern of consumption usually seen in Port Blair and if terms like 'ethics' and 'authenticity' have lost their meaning.

If you wish to read it please click here  (I hope you could read it, it's not loading for me because of my crappy internet connection, but i think this is the page, editorial section. )

I have been published before but i really like this piece i wrote, plus didn't i mention that they also put my picture there? Everyone wants to be in the papers once in their life after all, so that's one of my wish fulfilled. I am even more happy that could make it to the papers without killing or stealing anything.

The Bird and The Bee........and The Dogs

I want to share this song that i have been loving, and honestly i haven't stopped playing it. I don't know how i never found this before, i am completely and absolutely in love with it.

Another thing i am loving  is this picture of my dog Inky. He is a stray dog, so no posh breeds here. Obviously me living in U.K. means we are not as close as i was with Astro(my first dog, a Japanese Spitz, died few years ago) But i love Inky anyway, I see little bit of Astro in him, they have the same aura you can say.

Inky

I have 2 more dogs, both are from the streets Boori, which in Hindi means brown....because she is brown in colour, i didn't name her. But i did name Inky and Boori's mother Bella, she really is 'bella'. I didn't choose the name Inky, it was my mom. I don't know who came up with Boori, if you think naming a dog on it's colour is weird, then what do u think of Pagla(which means Mental) another one of my dogs who passed away, he hit is head when he was born, he was kind of mentally challenged, so my someone in my family (not sure who) named him Pagla, he was a fighter though. 

 My family is not so creative with names as you can see.

About Boori - She is our size 0 model
no matter how much she eats she never gains weight.

About Bella - She is the oldest of all,
 mother of Inky and Boori,
the most generous of all too. Bella is no more with us. She was the protector, we miss her. 

Since they are strays, we don't ever keep them on leash, they are happy to roam about and then come back home. Inky sleeps on my dad's care, Bella is very protective of her family, when she barks, others follow. Our mailman actually never comes near our house because my dogs gang up on him. They can get scary, i'll be honest, sometimes even i am scared of them, but they are nice to me and why not, i am their Bread Lady!