I'm Always a Stone-throw Away

I was probably 12 years old, i.e. 7th std. My elder sister and I would go to Bharat Natyam dance classes in the evening near our house. 

We could walk via 2 routes to the class: one on the main road with traffic, one through a safe residential quiet lane.

One fine evening for some reason my sister did not accompany me. Maybe she had an exam in school the next day, and I didn't. Who knows?

So I am a girl, all of 12 years, walking through the quiet residential lane in the night back from my class.

When WHAM! 

A stone hits me on my upper back.

It’s obviously come from a precisely aimed shot from one of the homes around. 

Did they want to hit my eyes? My face?

Did they miss and it hit my shoulder-upper back region fortunately?

Why do they want to hit me?

They have never in the past 6-8 years pelted my sister or me with stones when we used to walk hand in hand to class.

So they have actually been waiting all these years to find me alone and hit me?

They hate (only me) so much?

I walked back home. Ashamed. Knowing there is someone out there in this world who doesn't like me. 

For a curious chubby child of 12 years, "I" felt guilty for being hit.

Guilty enough to not discuss it at home nor take any further action.

I distinctly remember the sequence -

Hit by stone --> My head falls down in shame --> I walk back home.

I didn't even shout in general "Aye, kaun hain woh?" (Hey, who's it?). I didn't even look up and squint in the darkness searching for some human figure.

I just walked back home.

Now I'm 12 + 14 = 26 years old.

There is a lane between my college and the watch-making factory beside it.

I live in a building in that lane. In all together another city, another state from my hometown. 

Day before yesterday, I was returning home in the night after giving my Bharat Natyam post-grad exam.

I had a school bag on my back.

When WHAM!

A stone hits me on my shoulder.

Hmmmmmmm…

I don't look up.

I continue walking home.

I'm thinking:

So there is still someone who does not like me. Only me.

And fortunately this time too my face and eyes are saved.

So basically Stone-Throwing-Hater, you work in a watch-assembling factory in the night shift.

So technically speaking you are a manual labourer. 

That makes you a slave in my eyes.

And you want to throw stones at me?

It makes you feel better?

That's fine with me buddy.

I'm always a stone's throw away.

I will walk by that lane daily. 

You can pelt me daily.

I will save my face and eyes daily.

You can hate me daily. 

But you will still be a slave because of your brain.

And I will still be a Smiling Buddha because of mine J 

Report card

Every relationship passes through a test, one or the other day.
And contrary to my over-confident assumptions,
I have failed in each one of them till date.
Including Anatomy.

Now I only hope there is re-test
And I pass that.

Bye bye Carotids

Most of us reflect on our bygone days and recollect fond memories of a glorious past.
Our present is tepid and uneventful. Due to the current circumstances we live in. Ofcourse.
And most of us dream about what a glorious future we will have.

But what if our past is not really as glorious as we think it to be?
What if it truly ever was just a collection of random morbid days with just a ripple here, a ripple there, that too initiated by pebbles of other lands?

What if our future is not as glorious as we assume it to be?
What if all we achieve is a mediocre lifestyle with a closet full of unachieved dreams?

So if our present isn't dazzlingly spectacular,  aren't we basically being self-castrated eunuchs floating on a dull landscape of time?

The nurse could have punctured our carotids right at birth and it wouldn't make a penny's difference to this world.
We are the unacceptable lot.
We would actually be saving Mother Earth some resources.

Who among us agrees that some of us should take the higher road momentarily and puncture our own carotids?

I'm ashamed to be an Indian

I'm ashamed to be an Indian.

I'm even more ashamed to be a Hindu.

And I feel like I'm in a circus when I see a whole lot of Sthanik Brahmins gathered.

I'm ashamed to be an Indian all year through.

I don't need movies like Kai Po Che to remind me so.

But they do.

Movies like these remind me of the GLARING FACT that I'm born in a country called India where one's religion is one's identity and it is stamped on your forehead even before you are born !

I am in a country where a vast majority of people want to willingly vote for a bastard called Narendra Modi to be the next Prime Minister.

Some of these people who want to vote for him are my friends !@#$%^&*@@#$%

My only thought is that - 

He is the modern day Hitler.

Want to vote for him?

Sure!

Want to make him the next Prime Minister?

Sure!

Want to encourage genocide?

Sure!

I'll just remember to wish my non-Hindu (damn, I'm a caste-ist too now?) friends goodbye before he packs them off to their concentration camps.

The true capital of India is Mangalore

The last time I asked somebody to sing for me and they did not oblige was in New Delhi.
Since then I hate the capital of India.
Delhi murdabaad !
Bombay zindabaad !

More on Delhi:
Note: Some parts of this story are confidential. So I wish you zip your lips too after reading this.

I live in Mangalore.
When I realized I was going to Delhi for a week everybody was ecstatic.

1. Being a die-hard foodie,
The most consistent hope, reassurance and image of Delhi that I was given by my friends in the South was that - 'Delhi is the land of great food. There is a dhaaba on every corner. They serve amazing paranthas, the thickness of our 7 chapatis, and lassi thick as ever. At freakishly low prizes'.

Then I went to Delhi.
I got to eat one parantha, that too of some fancy flavour in a four star restaurant with a prize tag which robbed me of quarter of my monthly stipend (or whoever foot the bill).
And every corner I turned in Delhi, there was a food stall selling MOMOS.
Chinese khaana hota toh mein Nepal nahi jaati ??!!

2. Another consistent advice I got prior to leaving was - if a car starts approaching you, run in a zigzag pattern in the opposite direction. You are their target for a kidnap + rape. So Run Baby, Run!

Then I went to Delhi.
And I am a lazy person. (There! I said it. Now it's out in the open.)
I had to walk a long distance many times with my luggage to go from my lodging to the main road or the nearest Metro station.
And I am a lazy person (again, what's with the eye rolling?)
So I used to do what I have never done before.
Put out my hand and halt random people's car.
And hitch a ride with unknown people of Delhi.
I did not get kidnaped / raped.
But I still don't feel like - Yuss, I survived.

Why do I hate that place so much? Why?

It all starts with the beginning of the story.

People in Delhi did not sing. They did not sing for me as soon as I arrived.
Hurt kiya yaar mereku.
After that everything else was a downward spiral from there.

Barren

The world is full of childless women doing or learning something different or new to spend their time and days.

Those with children are finding ways to do or learn something different to get away from their real days.

Top 10 Reasons Why You Should Be With Someone

1. When you are having a hot bath and suddenly realise you have left your face wash outside, you don't need to go out all dripping and drenched. Just holler, "Jejuuuuuu, face wash". Ka-ching! *Face wash appears*
2. When its winter and you are shivering, you can borrow their sweater and yet act smug.
3. When you PMS and get all hormonal, you have somebody to yell at (other than yourself).
4. When they play "Jumma chumma de de" at a party, you have somebody to point at (other than your mother).
5. Group pics and all are nice. But couple pics ki baat hi kuch aur hain ;)
6. ahem ahem… cough cough..*clears throat* ummmm… u know...
7. Pencil, chair, sun, tata docomo top-ups, low battery, God, towel, nail colour, underwear, side of the bed, Skype, johnson & johnson ear buds, external hard disk, Sweet pea body splash, auto, train, bus, flights and Memories, Memories and More Memories ! *breathless*
8. You can cry to sleep. You can smile to sleep. You can laugh to sleep. Someone else puts you to sleep.
9. So one day you can tell Papa, like Shah rukh did in K3G to Amitabh - "Socha kahan Papa, bas ho gaya".
10. Nonsense! Life is nonsense. Love is nonsense. World is nonsense. Just.