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.