“Clouds come floating into my life, no longer to carry rain or usher storm, but to add color to my sunset sky.”, said Rabindranath Tagore.
How many of us have that attitude? How many of us still look out for a reason to blame it on something or the other!
Our 50 cents on this topic!
Click here to view the PDF version Edition2.4_Braving_The_Storm
And Click here to flip it like a magazine! http://www.flipsnack.com/YaminiMurty/edition24-braving-the-storm.html
And we had another rant about what we thought were mindfulness and heartfulness! We rarely seem to disagree and when we do, we always seal it with what the Guru has to say!
Read on!
DR: Wt do u wana say on mindfulness?
YM: I dun wanna say much on Mind
YM: Coz mind is Mess
DR: Heartfulness then
DR: They r d same to me
YM: No they r v v diff
DR: Ha u talk bout organs
DR: Brain n heart
DR: Mind is diff….
DR: Mind is nt brain
YM: Then u call it consciousness… Coz mind is an activity of brain
DR: Bt then mindfulness n heartfulness
YM: Heartfulness is consciousness…Or awareness
DR: Awareness
DR: Mind se ya heart se
DR: I dun c them differently
DR: Nt abl to
YM: So heartfulness is feeling… Mindfulness is thinking
DR: Feelin n thinkin r both related to the soul
DR: Heart n mind r one
DR: Brain is nt mind
DR: Anyways so wts ur heartfulness
YM: Heartfulness means being aware.. Feeling ur existence…
YM: Mindfulness means using ur brains to do all this
YM: If u wanna call what u feel from ur heart as mind.. Then i agree
YM: But mind thinks and heart feels and both r v v diff
YM: Thinking is a result of experiences learnings and perceptions created by senses and stored in sensory nerves or brain or whatever.. Whenever u extract that and apply it in any given situation that’s called using ur Mind.. And heartfulness means experiencing the moment.. Awareness.. The presence of smthng thats not u.. Or ur mind or ur physical existence in dimensions… Its beyond that.. That’s heartfulness..
DR: Hmm
DR: For me its mind n subconscious mind
DR: Mayb that’s d soul the heart the enrgy the feelin
YM: Subconscious mind is the knowledge ur soul holds…
YM: that’s why its called subconscious… It clearly means what we knw when we r conscious is not the real thing.. So we have to shift our attn to someplace else from our mind..
YM: Am not talking organ wise here..
DR: Ultimately what’s in the name
DR: It’s all about ur own consciousness awareness
YM: Deeper into Ur mind only means all the things ur brain was able to process
YM: But beyond brain thr is so much more
DR: No no
DR: Brain processes r mechanical
YM: And that’s what is mind
DR: Motor fnctns or reflexes et al
DR: Bt the mind is somtyn else
YM: Also memory experiences..perceptions.. Habits
DR: Wt v do wt v think n hw v think
YM: Think is also brain only
DR: Is our souls imprint on our mind
YM: It’s the othr way round
YM: It’s the imprint of the Mind on the soul
DR: Ther is a conctn betn nw n then n ther
DR: Both ways though
DR: No?
DR: Coz wt u r is somewhere wt ur soul is
DR: Ur soul imprints ur mind and ur mind imprints ur soul
YM: Nope…Thinking is just a function of brain…And with thots thr is an impression on ur soul.. It’s never othr way round
DR: That makes memories and plrs and flps
YM: Soul is Iike a flowing stream.. Endless…And mind is like a ripple..During one carnation…And when the ripple dies..The stream moves on
DR: I dun think ther r so many things there’s a soul… With memories and feelings and enrgy n thats that
DR: So u hafta get ther. N hw?
YM: Coz wt u r is somwher wt ur soul is
YM: This is absolutely correct
DR: Yes exactly
YM: Ur soul imprints ur mind and ur mind imprints ur soul
YM: This is what shud ideally happen.. But it doesn’t.. Coz senses perceptions.. Functions of brain comes in way
YM: And u forget what ur soul is
YM: Hence the search and want of a purpose
DR: Yes n v try to get bck there
YM: Exactly
YM: So.. When heartfulness and mindfulness r one… Then thr is nirvana, perhaps!
YM: But they can never be so
DR: It’s by being aware n in d moment
YM: Yes that’s my point
YM: Coz i can’t tell u
DR: Mind n heart r one trust me
YM: Nope
YM: Mind is brain
DR: No
DR: Brain is brain
YM: Then heart is heart
DR: Mind is nt brain
YM: Heart cannot be mind..
DR: Heart is heart
YM: U say brain is a motor
DR: It pumps blood
YM: I say heart is a pump
DR: Feeling thinking comes frm one place
YM: Ok.. Lets leave heart n brain
YM: Feeling n thinking comes frm diff places
DR: Nopes
YM: Yeps
DR: http://www.osho.com/read/osho/oshoontopics/theheart
YM: Lol
YM: Consciousness then!!
YM: Perhaps am a heart person right now and u r a mind person.. And we r yet to combine both and act like consciousness is running our business.. Like it did for Osho!
…
So, we are constantly in the pursuit of leveling up! And this time, we decided to learn Spanish, and ended up in a gender dispute. Now what’s that?
Read Along:
DR: Wt r wrds called in Spanish?
YM: Parables
YM: Parabla?
DR: Nosotras hablos espanol now…. Wts now
YM: Hoy!! Ahora!!
YM: Hoy is today
YM: Ahora is now
DR: Ahora
DR: Yes hoy i knw
DR: Manyana? Is tomm?
YM: Yes
DR: Manana
YM: Word is palabra
DR: Wit d acent
YM: Yep
DR: Palabda
YM: Palabra ko parabla
YM: Ho gaya mera Español ka perro gato ek
DR: Lol…Hau
DR: N wt was to buy
YM: Comprar
DR: That ws my fave
DR: Yaa
DR: Comprarlo
YM: Ok… Come comida bueno
YM: Yo soying
DR: N baaki i dun remembr hat boots?
DR: I forgot evrytyn wow
DR: N wt ws “how”?
YM: Como?
DR: Vl go to mexico or spain, N jus do wit Cuanto… Hola, adios, gracios, por favor!
YM: I rem ddlj dialog: Al Pacino… I am kutto. Am. Kamino am. Haramzado
DR: Lol
DR: Wt ws gm n gn?
DR: Buenos dias?
DR: Buenos noches?
YM: Yes
DR: I knw
YM: Thts right
DR: Thnk god for small mercies
DR: I remembr notyn
YM: 😀
DR: Lunch kya tha
YM: Keep practising
DR: N sanwich?
YM: Lunch is also almuerzo
YM: Empredado
DR: Btw i had quesadilla n pronounced well
YM: Me too
YM: 😀
YM: At taco bell
DR: Potato n tomato?
YM: Quesadiyya
DR: Yaa
YM: Papa n tomate
DR: I vl nevr use caballo
YM: Caballo
YM: And onion kya tha
DR: Y to waste in that
YM: Cerveza
DR: No no
YM: C se hi tha kuch
DR: Ya somtyn lik horse
YM: Cavayyo is horse and
YM: Ya..
DR: I don write so dun remembr
YM: Cevoyya
YM: Cebolla
DR: Cebolla
DR: Duh
DR: Mai bolna yehi chah rahi thi
DR: D horse is screwin my onion
DR: 😀 😀 😀
YM: Hahahaha
DR: u knw so many lingos
DR: Hindi marathi english tamil french german spanish
YM: Eng hindi marathi telugu german spanish
YM: 😀 😀
DR: Telgu yaa
YM: French only 10%
DR: I thot u told tamil
DR: Den u knw tamil n kannad also
YM: Tamil teriyum… Koncham koncham
DR: Thodi toodi
YM: Wo joke maloom..tamil terima… Sardar bolta.. Saale punjabi tera baap
YM: Teriyuma means.. Do u knw?
DR: Its v diff to learn languages
DR: N b fluent in it
YM: Practise
YM: Nthn else
DR: I lived wit marathis till 6th. Hnc i knew lil bit
YM: U had marathi subject. Kaise manage ki
DR: I mean i knew b4 marathi became a subject
DR: N m actly shy too
DR: Coz if u cnt speak lik them Ud sound funny
YM: Abhi hum espanol master karte n Spain jaate
DR: Usme bhi gender problem rehta na lekin. Like Marathi!
DR: N ye sala french me bhi
YM: Sabme hai
DR: Spanish
YM: German me Bhi hai
DR: English is best
YM: Hau.. Na respect na gender.. Na kuch
DR: U dunno onion ladki hai ki ladka
YM: Spanish me ladki
DR: Har language me onion ka gender kyu change karre
YM: 😀 😀 :’D
DR: Hindi me bhi ladki
YM: Pyaaz hindi me kya gender hua?
YM: Pyaaz sadh gaya
DR: Pyaaz kati hai
YM: Ladki nai ladka hai
DR: Rakhi hai
DR: Abbe ladki hai
YM: Ladka Hai!!!
YM: Bhindi sad gai.. Pyaaz sad gaya
DR: Abbe rakhi hai
DR: Pyaaz bhi sadti
DR: Bhindi toh girl hi lagti
YM: Abe tu rakhi toh rakhi hoga
YM: Par pyaaz ko “action” de na..
DR: Wo apne aap rakhi hai toh
YM: pyaaz kata hai..
DR: Pyaaz ugg gai
YM: Ek pyaaz rakha hai… Pyaaz ugg gaya
YM: 😀 😀 😀 😀 😀 😀
DR: Nahi meri toh ladki hai…Bachpan se
DR: 😀 😀 😀
YM: 😀 😀 😀 😀
YM: Mera ladka hai,baba pyaar…Pyaaz*
DR: Wt a typo
YM: Abe hara pyaaz bolti ya hari pyaaz
DR: Hari 😀 😀 😀
YM: 😀 😀 😀 😀 😀
DR: Aalu ladka hai
YM: Alok ladka hai
DR: N spanish me ladki
YM: Aloo*
DR: Poor papa
YM: Hau… Spanish me ladki
DR: Imagin papa is ladki
DR: Alok toh ladka hi hai
YM: 😀 😀
YM: Typo
DR: Hau
DR: Mast karri tu aaj
DR: Ye ladki ladka toh group me karna tha discuss
YM: Par pyaaz ka grp pe puchte
DR: I wantd to hear PA n NC k ling
DR: I mean not unke
YM: :’D :’D :’D
YM: Roflmai
YM: Roflmao
YM: Shitt
DR: Literlly laughin loudly
YM: Hana
This effect is better than most effects in the movie!
I am an aficionado of new technologies, and great cinema. I have loved all Hollywood movies, which have flawlessly used effects for visual treats. From Titanic to Matrix in the 1990s to Gladiator, X-men series in the 2000s to the recent ones – Gravity, Avengers. You cannot tell what they are showing is not real. They have camouflaged the effects so well, that it almost seems real.
And then we have an Indian attempt at visual effects – Bahubali. What in the name of God was Mr. Rajamouli thinking? He has made amazing movies before too, and I have enjoyed them so much – Eega, Magadheera were movies that were class apart. Conceptually.
But Bahubali was a downer and unnecessarily hyped.
Firstly, the story is clichéd. The setup in a mythological era did add a little curiosity, but it was excessively done. The makeup was over-the-top artificial. You could see the layers of make-up ooze out of Devasena’s face.
The shivalinga scene was so bad; that one could make out that the shivalinga had no weight at all. To top it, there was this acting by Prabhas which made us believe that he was indeed lifting that bulky shivalinga, which kept shaking in with slightest hint of wind. That scene was supposed to touch hearts. Mine, it didn’t!
Tamanna on the other hand, was not the person suited to play the role of a warrior. Her face is suited for pretty, dainty roles. Anushka would have been the right contender for the role of Avantika.
Having said that, apart from the casting and make up, the special effects were thoroughly mediocre. The only effects I found magnificent was those of the waterfalls. The palace, the war, everything seemed utterly fake. I couldn’t relate to anything in the movie. Nor did it serve as a visual treat. I was thwarted.
250 Crores on this! Sigh!
And what a wonderful movie Bajrani Bhaijaan was! A movie with a heart! If you take out Kareena from the acting equation, the entire package was a treat. She looked amazing, but her acting was something I would call a “kaala tika” to the entire project.
Now why does a movie like Bajrangi Bhaijaan appeal to me so much, as compared to that multi crore project?
Cinema is all about keeping the viewers engrossed through portrayal of emotions. Those emotions could be anything. Awe, Excitement, pride, disgust, thrill. Or love, pain, sympathy, compassion.
The former set of emotions were the intended selling point of Bahubali and the latter were the selling points of Bajrangi bhaijaan.
Anything that invokes my sentiments, is a good movie for me. With great actors, very effective dialogs and only expressions, in case of Harshaali Malhotra, the movie did speak a lot.
The only scene which seemed too much was the last scene when the little girl said “Jai Shri Ram”. Calling out “Mama” alone, would have sufficed and left the audiences in tears, which they were left with, anyway, after the movie ended. Salman Khan was spectacular. He proved that he can act if given correct roles, and cry too, normally, if asked to. i loved him in this movie. Nawazuddin in his small, crisp role did a fantastic job. The little girl is a wonder. Her acting, at such a small age, has already captured a million hearts. What special effect did it have? Nothing!
It is one of those movies, like Rang De basanti, or Taare Zameen Par, or 3 idiots, which will live in million hearts, only be sheer portrayal of human emotions.
That is real cinema.
No matter how much the movie makers spend on the movies, to make it at par with Hollywood, for me, movies like Bajrangi Bhaijaan do more, in a very little effort. (Of Course, the effort must be more than i imagine.)
We have a long way to go. With plethora of talent in our country, the special effects in the movies can surely reach the levels of Hollywood movies, and make us at par with them.
But Bahubali, was definitely not that movie. I will wait, for the real artists to surface and make impeccable stuff, with latest technologies, like it exists in Hollywood.
Until then, my belief rests on people who make simple yet effective movies.
I hung a few lanterns
On the front door
So that it looked like moon
And i wouldn’t miss
It’s company
On a cloudy day, in June
And then i could
Write poetry
About the subtle romance
Which began with silence
And ended in a
Marvelous dance
And our shadows looked
Like two souls
Were entangled in love
As the winds
Played the symphony
With moon smiling above!
Pic Courtesy: Diba
to be able to fly
and be appreciated
for one’s freedom
by the same people
who could have held you back
is the greatest joy ever!
Dr. APJ Abdul Kalam, passed away amidst students doing the thing he loved the most. I never met him, did not follow him like I follow celebrities on social media, but his demise saddens me. I feel sad, wonder why?
I pondered and realized if I felt so sad for a person I did not know personally, then what a personality he must have been! He has influenced millions by just Love and strength of character! That made me wonder what will I be remembered as, if at all, may be by just the people who did know me personally?
Simultaneously NDTV started replaying their interaction with APJ and the host asked his students audience ‘who would they like to be remembered as?’
Now I really had to think over it. I want people to remember me as an Architect, who built contextual buildings which kissed the earth rather than jut something out of it by tearing it. I want to be remembered as a teacher who nourished the students’ soul through questions and made them discover themselves. I want to be remembered as a friend who was always there when my friends needed me. I want to be a daughter who made her parents proud, a sibling who was a guide and a friend. I want to be so many things which would make me good in the eyes of others.
But is that what I want? Wouldn’t I be proving myself for the benefit and satisfaction of others?
I don’t want to be remembered, because I may not do something great in this lifetime, as Dr. APJ did, but as long as I live, I want to be true to myself, love myself and spread love. Remembrance would need years of hard work. I want to feel love each moment, maybe by smiling at the lady who sweeps our colony lanes, and demurely smiles back when she receives an unexpected warmth by someone like me.
I want to feel the love by sharing a chocolate to the 12 year old boy who sells artificial jewelry on the streets and perhaps waits for someone to pamper him. I want to feel the love while scolding him for staying away from school.
I want to feel the love because that’s what I am trying to spread and that coming back to me would fulfil all my wishes. These people I come across, they may not remember me and mourn my death, or remember me with profoundly. But, they would have blessed me with love too, at that one moment!
That’s perhaps what I want. I want to keep doing that.
Picture Courtesy: Diba
Many times, we do not know what to do in situations like…
when you’ve had a fight with your partner
when you want to watch a certain movie and your partner suggests another one
when your parents do not approve of your togetherness
when caste and religion becomes a barrier in your relationship
when certain habits of your partner annoy you
when you are living a long distance relationship and do not know how to make it work
when there has been a misunderstanding and your efforts do not suffice
when your partner talks all the time, and you are always at the receiving end
when you feel you are not getting enough from the relationship
when you have yelled at your partner and are too proud to say sorry
when your partner refuses to accept his/her mistake
when your partner avoids you
when you are not sure, if this is really love
when you want to breakup but do not know how to go about it..
when you want to say something without being hurtful!
Love is a very easy job! Relationship isn’t! And most of the Relationships work when we KISS…
When we….Keep It Simply, Silly!
If you’ve had a fight, apologize. Even if it’s not your fault. Because when you want to prove that you are right, then you are trying to satisfy your ego. And where there is Love, there is no ego!
If you want to watch a certain movie, and your partner disagrees, plan to watch both(his/her choice, along with yours) or neither. Relationship is two way street!
If your parents do not approve of your togetherness, analyze if it is worth sacrificing the relationship with your parents? Try and tell them how important it is to you that they are happy as well. With time, patience and Love, everything falls in place. If nothing works out, listen to your heart. It always guides you.
When caste and religion becomes a barrier, believe and know that every religion, every caste has propagated and taught Love. There is nothing bigger than that!
When certain habits of your partner annoy you, always know.. people are not perfect.. Love is!
When you are in a long distance relationship, understand that proximity only allows intimacy. Love can survive across distances too. Things get better with acceptance!
When there has been a misunderstanding, give it some time. Then communicate. With all earnestness. Honesty, patience and communication can set any situation right. There is no point in losing temper over failed efforts.
When you are always at the receiving end, try and change the means of communication. Write letters. Write emails. Talking and listening is not the only way. When you write things down, it gives a chance to the other person to grasp it in their own time and capacity.
If you feel you are compromising a lot in a relationship, if it is abusive, or you are not being respected, then walk away. There is never any good in staying in a relationship which consumes your energy and life. Love and relationships should empower you, make you appreciate life and love more. Be strong, and walk out if it doesn’t work.
There is only one mantra for a successful relationship. “Say what you mean and mean what you say”. Apologize only if you mean it. Or apologize if you feel it is important for the relationship to work. Sometimes, peace of mind is more important than proving who is right and who is wrong. Power of love makes everything very easy. Even forgiveness.
Many times, we do not accept our mistakes because we are too proud. If you know your partner has done something wrong, give them some time to own it up. If they don’t communicate. Tell them how you feel about it.
When your partner is avoiding you and you are not sure what is happening, ask. Ask if you would like your partner to have some space and time, if yes, give it. Ask if there is anything troubling them, and if they want to talk.. If they do talk, support them, if not, tell them you are always there and they can take as much time as they want to sort their things out. Be available, but let them be on their own. Some battles are personal!
When you are in love, and want to be in a relationship with a person, you will know it. There is no way of finding that out. If there is an iota of doubt, do not fool yourself. A relationship without love, trust care is not worth it. For the fear of staying single, or peer pressure, do not commit to something you are not sure of!
When you know you want to breakup, and you have all the valid reasons, do it. There is always a way of telling that you want to walk out. Hurt is inevitable. But the process can be made easier when you know what you want. Make sure you do not leave your partner in a pathetic state. Breakups needn’t always be gory, like they are, supposedly.
Love makes everything easy. When there is love, you would never feel like hurting the other person. Sometimes it becomes impossible to avoid hurts, but watching what you say, how you say will make the hurt ten times lesser.
All the answers are always very easy. You just have to pause, reflect, think and act! If we give some time to responses, instead of instantly reacting, things would be very very easy.
That’s why we say…
When things go wrong… K I S S
Keep It Simple, Silly! 🙂
Hey Mate! Listen!
It takes a great man to be a good listener
I got a call from this awesome dude called Kuldeep, from Delhi. He started the conversation, “Hello ji, Madam. Kya haal chaal hai?”
I wondered who could it be? I was least expecting a call from Delhi on a lame Tuesday afternoon.
“Sab Badhiya hai jee. May I know who’s speaking?”, I mocked him and asked.
“Kuldeep. Kuldeep singh Sondhi ji, from ABC life insurance company”, he replied reminding me of ‘Bond, James Bond’. I seriously hoped he wasn’t one!
Before I could say anything else or cut the conversation short, he continued, “Toh madam ji, Apne kaha sab badhiya hai? Hai na.. Kyaa Aap chahegi ki sab kuch hamesha badhiya hi rahe, aapke jaane ke baad bhi?”
I thought, what the eff? He is sounding so excited and asking me whether I would like things to be pleasant after I am, like, what? DEAD? (Of course the former part I would desperately want, but the latter!! Ehxcuse me! Not any time soon!)
And again, before I could say anything, the Dilli da gabru jawaan went on explaining, “Madam ji, you neej to pay only Rs.2000 avry month ji, upto the time of 5 years”
“You will gat 12.5% intraast and by the end of 5 year, ji, you can have 2 lakh, 17 thoujand, 8 hundred and 13 rupeej”, he went on.
“Also Madam, the banifit of this policy is that after 5 years you need not pay aanything. We will still give you cover upto 100 years. After 100 years you can get money on same intraast rate”, he said.
“What if I don’t get jeevan ka amrit and die before 100 years?”, I asked.
“In that case madam, your nominee gats 50% of the amount. And if, God forbid, aanything happens to our policy holder that is you, either if you are hosplitej, or aany surgry raquired, than you will gat 1.5 laaac Rs. and above that you will have to pay. This is our medicover policy only for you Madam”, he explained.
“Very well, Kuldeep ji. Can I have your contact number please. I shall get back to you”, I said, controlling my laughter.
“Take my parsonal number Madamji. I caan meet you at CCD also to axplain in case of aany doubts”, he sounded very excited. I thought with me in, he would meet his targets for the month. But alas, I had no scope for any investments anymore. I feel bad for giving him hopes of getting back to him, let alone going to Delhi and meeting him at CCD.
I would meet him, if he’d tell me the secret of living up to 100 years starting from today, considering I am already over a quarter century old.
I had a great time talking to a sales rep after such a long time because I had time and patience both, but I feel bad about giving him false hopes!
Sorry Shaktimaan 😛
How do you deal with telemarketing calls? Do you talk politely, or just hang up? Let us know your experiences!
Picture Courtesy: Diba
Send me those showers..
those monsoon showers
which would drench the trees
and break the branches
which would fall on my porch
and disturb the kennel
of my little dog
who would run to me, then
and cuddle up in my blanket..
But that tree isn’t there anymore..
nor the kennel
nor the dog..
just me!
Picture Courtesy: Yamini
Bring me those breezes
those cloudy, soft breezes
which would shed the petals of
a long lived rose
on its stem
one by one, I would see the petals
fall down
in ecstasy
Like it has embraced death
in the sweetness of the wind!
but there is no breeze
no rose
no petals
just still, drab air!
Picture Courtesy: Diba
Hand me those sunrays
which would pierce through
the vents
or through the windows
on some early mornings
when the tea would simmer
in the kettle
when mom would call out to dad
and ask him to put down his newspaper
The warmth of her voice
was like the warmth of the sun..
But that sun is hidden
behind those skyscrapers
there is no warmth
no mornings
no tea
no feelings
just me!
Vacation!!!! Seems like its been a long time since I went on one. Whereas, it hasn’t even been a month since I came back from home. I had been to home exactly a month back. My tickets were in the waiting list, as usual, because I felt too stupid to spend on exorbitant flight rates, which by the way are now so so less. What’s with the summer rush anyway? Summer rush! Sigh! I thought my tickets (PQWL quota) would be easily confirmed and I was so excited for my trip. But sadly it did not get confirmed. And what did I do then? I took a current ticket of the general sleeper class and boarded the train anyway. I hadn’t been home for 5 months. I was so desperate, that I decided to go anyway!
The journey of 23 hours from Bangalore to Nagpur was a nightmare.
My sister said, I looked like I had been mugged, or someone had asked me to sit on the roadside and beg. I was in such a horrible state. All covered with dust and sweat. I smelt of stale food. Now how did all that happen?
I boarded the train with a confirmed ticket of the general sleeper class. These are the non-ac coaches, in which we used to travel as kids and it used to be so much fun. The wind playing with the hair, gushing on the face, and the clear whistle of the engine…. it used to be a good ride. Back then, when we knew nothing about India being unsafe for women, or these general compartments being unclean, unhealthy and inappropriate for single women. Don’t get me wrong here. I am not one of those pricey women who are disgusted by general class in trains. I am very very accommodating, but this journey was nothing I ever imagined it to be.
I got on the train and sat in the seat which my ticket showed. There were only men in that compartment. I was wearing my glares, because, it was MAY, and it was sunny and I couldn’t take the heat. The guys traveling along with me were young. 22-24. Not more. And to mention another thing, the train was Patna bound. I hate judging, but when things they talk about people from Bihar really comes true, you are bound to have opinions. As soon as I boarded, they started singing songs, teasing me.They welcomed me with this!
“Akeli hai bhaii… aaj teri aish ho gai!”
They thought I was a kannadiga and they were talking in Hindi, which they thought I did not understand. I took the window seat and ignored the talks. A while later, when the train had started, I realized, I had no place to move. The entire berth was occupied by 6 guys, and I was pushed in one corner. My arms touching the guy sitting next to me. It was sultry, sweaty and hot. The approach towards Chennai made the climate unbearable. I finally told the guys to shift and occupy their berths, because I needed space on my seat and one berth can have only three people. Realizing, that I was speaking Hindi, they all became silent. They looked at each other, few of them left the seat and the other two guys spaced out giving me air to breathe. They said the train was too over crowded, with people boarding without tickets and they could do nothing.
Slowly the ruckus died down, as they behaved themselves, knowing that I knew Hindi as well as they did. Finally, a family of four, requested these guys to exchange the seats with them, and I was very thankful for some female company. Or was I?
Pic Courtesy: http://www.indostan.ru/indiya/85_2369_0.html
Slowly, they started spreading their entire settlement on the floor. Food, cold drinks, water. The little kid throwing water from the other window, which would come on my face. The smell of onions, the stickiness of the sweet syrup from some sweet. It was all getting on my nerves. They were eating ALL THE EFFING TIME.
The little kid, perhaps was just 2-3 years old, but looked like he was 5, and he peed from the window- outside, puked and the mother kept putting newspapers everywhere .I couldn’t even put my feet down. I was tucked in the corner, near the window seat, as slowly the compartment started filling up with more people. The chatter was killing me along with the heat!
Since the heat was unbearable, the men soon took of their clothes, and were playing with their crotches every now and then, and the women sitting with the dupattas off. The kids would jump over the men and it was sheer chaos. I tried to observe the people, and pass my time, but there was nothing worth enjoying!
I was asked to handle the kid for about 2 hours while they ate their seven course meal. My feet were dirty, dust all over my face, the oily skin and the humid weather doing its part, and my hair was a mess. To top it, there was no water in the train! The same train has amazing AC compartments. I have travelled before. But what with these sleeper coaches?
I couldn’t sleep in the night, because the unreserved folks took half of the seat and tried to fit in while I folded my feet and tried to sleep. I had to push a few people off the berth by kicking them, and I realized, in India, this was the only way to survive.
It was disgusting.The state of affairs in the country can never change, if people start becoming comfortable in the shit they stay. It was like a pig sty. People people everywhere, naked, with food around,licking eating, puking, peeing, doing every little business in that little space there was. My journey was only for 23 hours, but these folks were Patna bound, which meant 50 hours of journey almost! 2 whole days.
And the best part is, they were enjoying it! I wondered HOW…WHY? What makes them so comfortable in such a horrible state?
I had never seen this ever in my life. I was shocked, shaken to the core, and did not know what to do. My sister had come to pick me up. I couldn’t feel my knees and feet after sitting in one position for 23 hours. I wobbled till the car, sat in, gulped down a bottle of refrigerated water, switched on the AC of the car and cried. I cried like something really bad had happened. I don’t know why I wept like a mad woman, perhaps the PMS was climaxing!
And then I reached home!
I realized, I have been so so privileged. I had a nice cold shower, sat in the AC and had a sumptuous breakfast. There are lakhs of people who don’t even know what I know – the comforts, the space, the privileges. I have no rights to complain! Ever!
What is the gap, I wonder? EDUCATION!! Nothing else. This one thing, will seal all gaps!
Enough with all the Complacence! Things HAVE to get better!
…..That said… I am never going to travel in the sleeper class, ever again! Call me pricey or whatever!
Click on the picture to read the Oh! Womania Edition 2.2
Monsoons are synonymous with life. Genesis. We bring you this June, our take on Genesis, and the inquisitiveness of the wonder called Life.
Read the PDF here –> Edition 2.2 _ Genesis
Happy Reading
~ editors
Contributed by Sarvesh Iyer
Today I had a chance to attend an informal session with Dr. Huban Gowadia. She is the director of the US department of Homeland Security’s Domestic Nuclear Detection Office (A post to which she was appointed by president Obama) and has been serving in that post since September 2013.
A strict proponent of feminism, she was discussing her life being an immigrant from India and the challenges associated with growing up in a stereotypical environment where she was fortunate to have a family who never discouraged her from pursuing the dreams in a male dominated society. She was also discussing her experience after immigration and interacting with the “Citizens of the wider world” and importance of working as a team in today’s competitive world. She was very soft spoken and had an air of simplicity in her demeanor which is quite rare for the person who is holding a position that requires demanding leadership.
Below are some of the excerpts from her talk. I must say, I fell in love with this lady. 🙂
1) On having an inquisitive mind: “There is no such thing as pushing the envelope on questions….so ask, ask and keep asking.”
2) On how to pursue your goals: “Make sure the urgency is never lost.”
3) On being asked how she would define herself: “I am a startup artist and have no idea how to work on a steady state.”
4) On being self-aware: “You have to know what your flaws are.”
5) On being ready for the job: “If you are perfectly ready for your next job, you will get bored on day-2.”
6) On being open to new tasks: “Not my job is not your option.”
7) On confidence: “If you are confident on who you are, people around you will be confident as well.”
8) On getting out of the comfort zone: “Get comfortable on being uncomfortable…work on early stage of your career on developing a good GUT.”
9) On sometimes not knowing what we want in life: “I am an abject failure on what I wanted to be, but I would never trade on what I am today.”
10) On learning: “Keep your mind open and learn as much as you can.”
11) On believing in yourself: “It’s really hard to keep a good person down, they always find a way out.”
12) On being asked the importance of education for women: “Every suicide bomber has to get his mother’s permission, it wouldn’t happen if the mother were educated.”
13) On leadership: “My leadership style (according to my boss) is PARTICIPITORY DICTATORSHIP.”
14) On how to lead a team of people with different personalities: “You must lead people the way they want to be lead, not the way you want to lead them.”
She said that women were slowly making their way into technical jobs and her dream is to see women being directors in national labs. She also said that she did not face any discrimination for being an immigrant in leading up to the position she is in today. “This land embraces you and meeting people from around the world lends you an amazing perspective to life.”
If you have had any interesting encounters, interviews or talks with people, please share it with us at ohwomania@gmail.com 🙂
***
Pic Courtesy : Diba Raza
I sat in my seat, tensed. I am not usually this tensed. Especially around women. It’s always the other way round. I sat looking away from the entrance gate, pretending to be engrossed in my sketching. I heard the screeching sound of the door, and i knew they had come in.
Bina, and that girl. What on earth were they doing together? When did the women started ganging up on me. I have never had such co-incidences in my life. No co-incidences for that matter. Ever.
They passed by me. I did not look at them. They went and took the same seat. The place, where that girl was sitting before. I decided to relax a bit, and act cool. I was a man. The powerful, guy who could rule over any woman. Women were my muse. My target. They did as I wished. I couldn’t have fallen weak, or appeared vulnerable. As my sight and thoughts refused to catch pace, I heard my cellphone ring. It was Dev.
“Hey dude. Tell me”, I began. I desperately wanted to talk to someone. Or pretend like I was being really busy and occupied. I pretended to take notes while talking.
“Where are you?”, he asked.
“In Costa, near JP Bus stop”, I said.
“Ok. Can you do a painting workshop for my office colleagues?”, he asked.
“What?”, I did not know he took interest in my work. So much so, that he would promote it.
“Yes, we are encouraging recreational activities and the sorts. You know the drill!”, he explained.
“Ok”, I managed to say.
“What? Don’t do it as a favor or anything. The company will pay you”, he insisted.
“Ok, cool! You know I don’t do favors”, I mocked.
“Sure. I know”, he replied. I could sense the smile in his voice.
“Let me know the details then”, I said.
“Yep. I’ll get back”, he said as he was starting to hang up.
I gathered my guts and said, finally, “Dev.. come to Costa if you have time?”
“Everything Ok?”, he asked, because I do not hang out with him voluntarily. Ever. Asking him to come for coffee, in a typical coffee place was awkward. He knew things weren’t really Ok.
“Yes. All good. Never mind. Come home for dinner, we’ll talk then”, I did the usual thing.
“I will. I told aunty I will come home”, he said. “See you then. Bye.”, he hung up.
Again, I was left alone, amidst the stares of the two women. Yes. They were staring at me.. Two women, two days, back to back, two troubles, and both in the same cafe. Together. I felt outnumbered. All these years, when I looked at women, they appeared scared. But this was something strange!
I could be trashed for being a pervert. The other girl had seen the pictures on my cell phone. All nude women. I could be sent to jail. I would love that actually, one day. Some day. But that day, wasn’t the day I would have given up.
I decided to walk up to them and apologise. I liked Bina. I liked the other girl even more. I approached, while they still stared at me. I slid the tissue on the table, on which I had sketched that girl. Just like she was sitting before. Her lose sweatshirt, hair over her eyes, spectacles, and her fingers over her phone.
She picked it up, and looked at it.I wonder if she appreciated what she saw. That was a neat sketch. I am a good artist, I thought. Did I impress her? I wondered.
“Look, Bina”, I started.
“I….”, I was struggling to speak out the sorry word.
“Yes, go on”, said the girl.
I looked at Bina and said ,” I am sorry, Bina, for misbehaving the other day at the office”
“Lorraine”, the girl said.
“What?”, I looked at her perplexed.
“Her name is Lorraine”, she said.
“What.. Then who is Bina.. Bina Raj?”, I asked.
“I am Bina”, she said, and stood up. This girl, wearing this amazing fragrance, crazy voice which drove me crazy, a woman so unlike other women, said she was Bina. The name I was hung up on since the day I saw it on the news paper. This woman was the one!
“Now say, sorry to me”, she rolled up the sleeves of her sweatshirt, as Lorraine – the girl from the office reception, sat, looking amused.
“What the fuck!”, I stood there confused.
“I am Bina, and she is Lorraine. Did you not do your homework properly, Mr. Stalker?”, she raised her pitch.
I smiled. Looked at Lorraine and saw her fingers placed over her cheeks, observing the ongoings. The orange nail paint was chipping off, a tad.
“Why did you write her name on the paper?”, I laughed as my blood pressure dropped and I felt comfortable in the company of the girls.
“You want me to answer that?”, Lorraine said sarcastically. “My wish. I could write Tom Cruise if I wanted”, she added.
“Look Mr. I reckon you know a lot about both of us now. People like you are a waste. Leeches. Disgrace to the society! So get lost. OK?”, Bina said. It took some time for me to get used to the names and the expletives. What did she call me…Leech? Waste? My ego went into a hysterical laughter loop. I felt a high. Like I had an orgasm.
I had numerous questions about why were the pictures of Lorraine on Bina’s Facebook profile. I did not how to ask them. This was getting out of hand, and I couldn’t satisfy my curiosity. I simply assumed that they both were gay! Partners. Woman on woman! What an amazing painting that would turn out. My mind leapt higher and higher as my imagination screwed my senses.
Despite all that, this girl, now Bina, was a miracle woman.
“I hope you liked the sketch”, I smiled at Bina, and began to leave.
“Your Facebook Account”, I started and stopped, realising I was digging my own grave. I could be easily reported for stalking. And I turned back to leave again.
I had fallen for that girl – Bina. Yes. I had. Love? I don’t know what they call it. But I wanted to keep the conversation going. I wanted her to react to my statements. I wanted to trigger more emotions. I wanted to talk with her about everything there ever was. I wanted her.. With the thoughts mounting up, I started to walk away, as something within me triggered.
I looked back and said, “One day miss, I will sketch that without your clothes on, if you like”, I smiled. “Both of you, together”, I winked.
She approached me like a lightning and struck me on my face. Hard.
**Thud**
It had finally hit me. Love had finally hit me. I fainted.
Dev should never know about this…
***
contd on next Friday
Pic Courtesy : Diba Raza
Today is Tuesday, and I have nothing interesting to write. But I do have something to write about. Yesterday, I got a mail about a colleague, aged 25-26, who passed away in an accident. I did not know him very well. He used to work in our office and had left the job to pursue his education in one of the IIMs.
I only remember him from that one interaction I had. Once there was this exhibition/fun fare organised by the employees in our office. He had a stall for CRY. He was promoting the NGO and all those who were interested could become a part of it. He was one of them. I went to the stall, and inquired everything about how to make a donation for CRY. I was to give him a cheque the next day. Somehow, I couldn’t meet him, and I made the payment online. That was the only interaction I had with him.
He was known to be someone who was very active in social service and similar activities. And when I heard the news, I felt really bad. For his family and for all the people who will now be deprived of his care, love and service. I hardly knew him, but I knew, world was definitely a better place with people like him around, but not anymore.
He is not the only one I know who passed away too soon. There are many. Not too close, but there are people close to me, who have lost their loved ones too soon.
This isn’t the first time, that I have had questions like these in my mind. Why do good people have to die so early. I totally understand and know the concept of Karma and that they have finished their cycle here, and are on another journey. All fair! But, seriously, the world needs such people.
I am someone who will only help in her capacity. I do not go out of my way to help others. If I have no food to cook and eat, I do not go about feeding others. That’s the most practical approach, according to me. But there are people who live by that rule. They feel, if someone else out there is hungry and dying, how can one eat heartily and sleep peacefully.
These are the kind of people who are taken away too soon. There are some who bring about a change by talking and giving speeches, but there are some, who silently do their part without saying, mentioning anything. And when you hear a news such as this, it really makes one feel bad. I am hope deprived!
A few days back, I read about a man, a librarian who donated all his earnings to the poor. It takes immense strength to do that for other people, who are not your own. For the sake of humanity, people do things like these and I believe they are exceptional, God sent souls. Truly respectable. But when they face such nemesis, I question Justice and the Laws of the Universe. It’s all meaningless. I know all the answers to my questions. The Karma one does, the fruit one gets – it’s an unending cycle which shall make sense if I see the bigger picture. But right now, things don’t make sense. I see injustice. I see sorrow in homes which have never wronged anyone.
All wonderful people die too soon I feel. And the ones who deserve to die still hang around and corrupt the air! I wish there was more justice. Perhaps there already is, I am too small to understand the bigger meaning behind all this.
Incidences like these, makes me appreciate whatever I have, even more. There have been times, when i have complained incessantly. But, living, being alive, itself is the biggest gift ever! And people who want to die, because they have failed in exams, or relationships, they should know, some people want to live and do so much, but they don’t get to!
And if we are alive instead of those who should have been alive- those who indeed had a purpose, we should be thankful!
Value what you have!
Read Chapter 1 here –> Diary of a Compulsive Stalker
Read Chapter 2 here –> Mr. Painter
***
Slowly, the buzz around me, the little there was, settled down, as she came next to me and stood. I replayed her approach, in my head. She walked with an unassuming gait. I retreated my gaze, and pretended to look at my coffee, stirring an empty cup. Why isn’t there more coffee, when it needs to be, I wondered! Scared? Was I? She stopped by my side. I wanted to ignore it. I knew what would happen next.
“Sorry Lady. I was just….”, I tried to reframe alibis as I waited for her to speak up first. Or simply pass by.
“No.. why do you think I was looking at you”, I tried the glib liar way!
“Picture, camera.. .what are you talking about?”, shrugging off an accusation.
I was preparing numerous reasons and answers to cover up my act. Why was I staring at her? Hahahahaa..Dammit! I am a stalker. Ain’t I? I look at women. Then women look at me. Some with disgust, some with fear and some…
“What’s your problem?”, she finally asked, her voice piercing my lungs, as I gasped out a puff of air.
“My problem?”, I reacted, as she asked me something I was totally anticipating. I was still not looking at her.
“Yes Mister. Your problem!”, she reiterated.
I smiled. Gazed up and looked at her face. A nice, wonderful, tingly feeling passed down from my stomach to the groin!
“No problem Madam. No problem”. I stared at her, my smile hooked right there, as I did not scan her anatomy.
This was strange. Very very strange. No woman does that to me. I compulsorily dissect every woman I see. But here, I was listening to a voice, registering her words in my head, and not just simply gawking at her lips, trying to make out the shade of her lipstick.. Berry, or plum..
Dammit, she didn’t wear any. Which woman wears no lipstick? huh? I know the answer to that – the kind whom I don’t look at..
But this? She is not my type. But she is soooo my type. What is so weird about this female? I did not get time to explore that, because she interrupted my thoughts with her question again.
“Listen. I hope you know, you can be in trouble for doing whatever you are doing!”, she said.
What was I doing? Stalking women? Painting naked pictures, giving art lectures in colleges? What was I doing? I was in trouble already, and I loved being there. What new then?
“How… tell me?”, I asked, as I wondered, what about her intrigued me. Not her hair, not her waist, not her fragrance anymore. But her voice. That jingle in the voice. Those words, she spoke. Effective. Like a fucking dart!
“Tell me how, lady?”, I sounded as cordial, as I could, while I continued to stare at her. I waited for an answer. I waited for her to tell me what was I doing so wrong, or offensive. I gave my typical stare, and she did not budge.
She did not feel uncomfortable. She did not shift her weight on either legs. She did not bite her lips. She did not run her fingers through her hair, in tension. She stood there. In confidence and spoke to me. Spoke to the dirty mind – me, like others call it.
Me… this guy… who could now see something beyond a naked woman. I had no interest in undressing her. I had no aim of painting her. I had no intentions of making her feel uncomfortable. I don’t know why!
Is she the one who will undo me? Unfold all the creases that mounted over time. That made me this person I have no idea about. Would she break me free of these illusory bonds, which I think are killing me? The only woman, so unlike a real one, who would shake the bejesus out of me, and make me question every single thing I believed I was?
“Delete that picture, you clicked!”, she demanded as she took me out of my monologue.
“What picture?”, I smiled, as I handed my phone to her.
She browsed through the gallery.
“Pervert!”, she sounded mad and sarcastic looking at the naked pictures of women that I had saved on my phone.
“I am an artist madam. And I have not clicked any picture of yours, if that is what you thought!”, I sounded as decent as I could.
“What kind of an artist? Porn artist?”, her sarcasm was starting to impress me.
“Not really. I am a painter. I do nude paintings. There are models, that I wish to paint. They pose for me”, I explained, like I was giving a demo or a session, or an interview, trying to explain the contents on my phone.
She shrugged, as she browsed through a few more pictures. She had no counter attack. She handed me the phone, gave me a blank stare, and squeaked her way out of the door.
I looked at the phone to see which picture she was looking at. It was an asian lady. I scrolled to the next picture and looked at it for a while.
It was Bina’s – the one I had downloaded from her Facebook profile. She hadn’t turned up. I sat down again, expecting her to turn up in the next few hours. She was the reason I was sitting in the cafe. Getting into trouble with my restless thoughts and mind!
While I thought about Bina, this girl took over my mind, and I imagined her instead. She had done something, which no one had ever done. What was it? I picked up a tissue and started sketching. I had to pass my time, until Bina came.
And for the first time, I drew a woman – clothed. Fully clothed. This was something strange. I could not comprehend! I began to leave, when, in a few minutes I saw her approach the cafe again.
This time with another girl. I noticed a familiar face.
Bina…
I sat down again in my seat. A little nervous! What was happening to me??
Dev should never know about this..
***
Read Chapter 4 : When the stalker fell in Love
I see how people are stuck and refuse to move on. Let’s talk about relationships. Some work, some don’t. It is not necessary that you keep finding reasons to stay when it is obvious that you should leave.
I read a blog about a girl who talked about her relationship with her ex-boyfriend who used to abuse her physically.When there is so much trouble and pain, how can one not see a reason to let go and break free?
If I empathize, I would try to stick to the relationship only with a hope that he becomes a better person someday, and stops physically abusing me. On hindsight, I think, if anyone disrespects you, for any thing, any reason, repeatedly, over and over, doesn’t deserve an iota of love or respect in return. So I would have more reasons to dump him than stay with him.
Why do wives, whose husbands abuse them, still stay? It is only because of the pressure of the society and future of their children. That’s another topic altogether to talk about! What if there were no social pressures. Let me tell you.. there is none. Whatever you see, is a farce. It’s all an illusion. You were always meant to live free! Believe it!
How would you see a situation where you can constantly observe your partner moving away from you, convincing you that things won’t work, and still you keep clinging with a hope that someday it might?
Aren’t you ruining the chances that life is giving you? Aren’t there possibly a thousand more amazing things that you could be doing with your life, than surviving in a hope that goes against all odds?
And after some time, you start blaming things on relationships or situations that did not work. The blame is not on anyone else. But you! You could have moved on, if you dared!
Don’t the guys say “Had she not come in my life, I would have been better off?” or “Had I not met her, I would have been a successful man, would have chased
my dreams and would have lived more sensibly?”
How many girls don’t cry thinking about their breakups, wondering “If only…” I may sound crazy if I say “Move on”, because I personally know how difficult it is to “Move on”. But what’s the point in being Stuck?
We are not necessarily stuck only in Love. We are stuck in hate too. Hate is absence of love. And as long as you are looking for something you don’t want to find, it stays absent in your life. And you are left with Hate!
Eventually a negative emotion ruins you!
Seeing someone you love, settle with someone else seems like a punch on the face, a kick on the balls and a dagger in your heart…But how does one deal with it?
Stay Stuck, cry and make life miserable? Or simply explore the love within, which was always there, and try some other way to let it out?
I had never heard of a term called “Mutual breakup” until a few days ago!
Towards the end of the post, let me opine on what I think of love.
Love is merely a feeling. A beautiful one, that. You can never PROPOSE love, you can only EXPRESS it. You can only FEEL it. You propose a relationship, or marriage!
If the proposal is let down, does it mean the love dies? It doesn’t. Love is always there, it always was! The proposal dies eventually! With the proposal, the hope dies. And so do the dreams. But if you wiggle that little corner of your heart, you’ll always find LOVE. It never goes anywhere!
So, for me, love is always stuck in my heart! I, personally, am stuck nowhere! That is what I would like to believe! So move on!
How difficult is it for you, not to stay STUCK?
A film about constipation! The most ignored but very major lifestyle disease. If, a chronic one even worse.
Never thought Shit could be discussed at such lengths by the finest of actors in Bollywood. It makes shit talkable now. It a ‘Shit movie’, showing nitty gritties of life in a unique way. A Bong Architect and her Bong Father’s sweet and sour relation. A stubborn Father, a snappy daughter and their only discussion – Constipation.
The movie portrays, Indian families, however modern, how we still discuss the mundane things, how we still enjoy meals amidst noise and clutter, how we still criticisize everything. How modern medicinal practices make us lose our life, our happiness and degrade our lifestyle by restricting us to medicines, khichdi and a BP- apparatus.
Piku isn’t only about a man and his bowel movements, or the lack of it. It is also about growing old, about children taking responsibility and about nostalgia. It also showcases how are cities are growing and changing, and how are our ideologies and families changing with time.
Its a Satire for all who plan their death, who live like they are already dead, who miss out the fun of present to extend they life by few years. Not all children are selfish, its not that only sons can takecare of their aging parents. Not all parents sacrifice, sometimes they are selfish, too. And after an age, your parents become childlike and you have to parent them. Take care of them just like they did, bear their tantrums, pamper them, love them.
Love, live and enjoy life! Thats what you are supposed to do. Body deteriorates with age, it is supposed to, you get ill and weak, but that shouldn’t stop you from living!
Aadmi ka Emotion uske Motion se Juda hota hai!
So true…
While reading Mr Acharya’s much famed Hit and Run write-up and mockery of Salman’s Being Human efforts (for no good reason), it suddenly struck me, I have something to share, too.
My Dad is a soft-hearted and extremely simple and loving person. He is a slow, like painfully slow Driver. He once had a hit and NOT run incident.
He was returning home with my sister, who then, was an MBBS final year student. In India, sadly apart from main roads the towns have no roads. Like yes, they are tarred and plain and all, but no pavements and here I am advocating Nobody!
So the lanes, the so called Gullies are the ones we have to take in the absence of main road connectivity. Well we know how our smaller roads are, they are cricket pitches, badminton courts, cow shelter, dustbins, well anything but roads.
Dad in his santro was as usual driving at his snail-speed, a kid suddenly jumped into the middle of the road out of nowhere. Fortunately my dad’s driving and speed did save him, but he got a minor bruise on his ankle.
The driver here – my dad – wasn’t speeding, he was not drunk, he doesnt drink. And being the soft hearted soul that my dad is, he stopped the car, to check the kid. He was terribly sorry and I can vouch for that. Thankfully the kid was not badly hurt. But, all the people from the road abutting Slums gathered and starting yelling and shouting and abusing my Dad. My sister was petrified and Dad had no clue what to say. He took the boy in the car and went to the Hospital. My sister was a government college student and could have easily had him admitted in the government hospital, but the mob was growing violent and they wanted to go to a Private hospital.
The kid was admitted to a newly opened, posh private hospital. The self appointed mob leader, asked for compensation of 50,000/- a sum too large for the minor Bruise. My dad is an Honest government servant, and just too simple to say much, he was already too hurt about the whole deal and was in tears himself. This man who cant kill a fly, was being prosecuted like anything.
picture courtesy : Hussamul Wahid
I am not advocating reckless drivers nor my father is one, but i dont understand kids jumping on the roads or playing on the roads. Are roads meant for that, what do you do when people come infront of your car? You apply breaks or abruptly change lane, causing the car behind you to bump into you.
He did not ram into the footpath or pavement, he was driving on the road, and he wasn’t drunk. But he was being accused, a police complain was lodged. He had to pay compensation and get the boy’s treatment done failing which the mob leader warned him of dire consequences.
My sister being a doctor knew it was a minor superficial bruise, no fracture no internal injury. But the hospital kept him under observation for 3 weeks under false pretences. The mob was in the hospital all the while. The hospital prescribed heavy and expensive medicines, which perhaps were given to the kid or who knows. The per day charge of the room was exhorbitant, well someone had to pay for the new building and equipments and what’s better than a scared and blackmailed good samaritan!
My dad did not speed, he did not drink and drive, he did not actualy hit, he did not ram into the pavement…. And well nor did he Run! He was still tortured for a month, had to be there in the hospital, inspite of his office work and pay the bill everyday, he was called constantly by the mob for money or attendance even in the middle of the night.
Why? All this for being human? All this for not running and helping instead?
He never takes that godforsaken road now.
Its not about rich or poor, it is about Not taking advantage of someone’s goodness! You run not because you are inhuman, but because you are scared that you might be killed or jailed or attacked by the mob. And, if you, inspite of all these fears, decide to help, you are still abused, ridiculed, tortured, blackmailed and taken advantage of. Yes accidents happen, that is why they are called accidents. But that doesn’t give you the right to take advantage.
If someone is not running but accepting his fault and helping – Respect his courage, Accept his apologies, Try to forgive him and Dont torture him such that he thinks before helping anyone again!
Photo credits : Pooja Cornelius
She made you who you are!
She taught you everything, even the God you pray to is known to you because of her. Your money, your faith, your behavior and YOU yourself are her making.
How long will she live for you? She did that without a holiday all her life. Fed you, saved you, educated you, guided you. Today she is older than she was before. Spare some time and look at her face. Appreciate the beauty. Look at all the love that reflects and shines in her eyes.
As much as she is an epitome of strength and love, she is vulnerable and insecure too. She feels, what if her own children, for whom she did all she could, abandon her for prettier things in life?
She snores in her sleep. Sometimes, it sounds like howls in the forest. Perhaps she feels suffocated, or is unsure about a lot of things and goes on giving you incessant hope and promises for a bright future.
Today perhaps you have sent her flowers, or uploaded a picture of her on your Facebook accounts or on whatsapp . Her kids are busy with their kids and she likes that fact. She has learnt to be happy in her children’s happiness.
She has no-one to talk to. Her husband is a news addict perhaps. Or she wants a different conversation with her daughter or son. Or sometimes, she wants to cook and feed her army with endless delicacies. She reminisces on the compliments when you say “Mom’s food is the best!” So why is there a mother’s day cake on her table, and no one around to relish it?
She is scared to interfere in YOUR family, she keeps herself aloof lest ‘she disturbs you.’ Do we realize that? We are all grown ups. And she is growing older!
What can we do to make her feel special. Not today, but everyday?
Just make her feel wanted, not to work, not for prayers, not for taking care – Wanted because she is your MOM.
Do not shout at her, do not teach her what to do. Just plain love her and respect her. Spend time with her – Call her, meet her, make her Happy!
Hope there are many more mother’s day, and many more days of togetherness. Some time my mom looks at me and says “Time runs so fast!”
I hope she’s wrong!
Diary of a Compulsive Stalker Chapter 1 : Read here
***
Painters are funny people. I turned out to be one funny chap. Really!!
I received a call the other day for judging an art competition. I laughed hysterically after I hung up on the dean.
“Mr. Zubein, we need artists like you to inspire our students”, he said.
I hadn’t laughed like this in a long long time.
“Sure, I’ll be there Sir. Please text me all the details”, I responded decently.
“I will do that. Also, can I ask you to come for the event inauguration first, and I would be very glad if you could suggest a theme for the painting competition”, he demanded more, as I heeded.
“No problem Sir. I shall be there”, I had to sound amicable.
He had bought 17 of my paintings for no good reason. I could go without work for so long only because he gave me money. Of course I don’t see it that way. I earned it. But I knew what level of an artist I was. I deserved nothing! None of it – money or respect! But I got it anyway. So I made it a point to enjoy it. Humility pays nothing in this business.
“Sure. I do have something in mind. I’ll come and address the students at the inauguration”, I assured and continued with my internet browsing.
Social networking has its boons and banes. I looked for Bina’s address and found it easily. She stays 4 bus stops away from me. The world is indeed a small place. She keeps checking-in in this one particular Costa Cafe, and I can guess easily that she stays somewhere around that coffee house.
***
Mom has been a crazy woman ever since she became a mother, I believe.
“Zubi, look at this advertisement. Why don’t you attend this interview?”, she called out one day.
“Mom, I am not going to turn out like Dad. I don’t want to be an accountant, fill ledger books and do the same thing over and over again for 40 years”, I reasoned.
“How on earth are you going to have a steady income then?”, she questioned.
“Mom, I sold my paintings last month, and with those earnings I can spend lavishly for another 3 months. My paintings go in lakhs. Dr. Diwan paid me 1 and half lakh for 3 paintings alone, last month”, I explained.
“This is not a steady income. And which idiot buys paintings of nude girls for 1 and a half lakhs?”, she sounded disgusted.
“That’s art Maa. Nude art. I am a graceful painter!”, I explained, but failed to. She never understood me or my art. Not even when I tried to tell her about how I felt about certain things.
Nude artists are not appreciated much. I remember the first time I chose to stick with one color only. I used red, to paint a woman. Shades of red, on canvas. Painting of a woman I saw in one of the B grade flicks of a South Indian movie. I took a still and painted her. Without clothes. I realized there was something that interested me. The divinity behind the entire creation of women is astonishing. I wanted to appreciate the beauty. I painted her in 3 hours. Straight. Most of the times, the most unassuming women of the lot interest me. This woman was one of them.
“Exquisite”, I remember Dev complimenting me.
But I found it senseless. My painting did not impress me. I wanted to feel the rush within for having painted this sensuous woman whom I stared at for 5 hours and painted for 3. But nothing happened.
Just like Bina. Would painting her mean anything? Would I want to see her naked? Posing for me? I would definitely want that.
I went to Costa the next evening to find Bina. I wanted to apologize, so that she thinks of me as a good man. I am a good man, mostly, women refuse to agree. Ask Dev, he would vouch for me.
Dev……. Well….!!
“Why did your parents name you Zubein when you are not Muslim”, he asked once. That was his very first question from him, when we met. I concluded that this guy wouldn’t be easy to deal with. He had already judged me on the basis of my name.
“My mother was a Muslim, and my father is a Hindu. Now we don’t follow any religion”, I replied.
“That’s weird”, he exclaimed.
“What’s weird? Religion is complicated. Love is simple. We follow latter”, I defended, repeating what mom always said.
“Ok. Makes no sense. But people will think you are Muslim, or Parsi”, he said.
“Would that really matter?”, I asked.
“I should ask that!”, Dev said.
“Well, I don’t care. What’s in a name after all…”, I started quoting Shakespeare.
“….That which we call a rose, by any other name would smell as sweet”, he finished the saying.
That’s how I knew I could be his friend. He was opinionated. But he was still a guy who could be my friend.
Bina was not in the cafe, when I entered. It was a weekday. A workday. Why should she be out in a coffee house? She must be at work. Looking pretty, scribbling her name on the newspaper, attending people. I sat there and ordered a coffee for myself.
I looked around. There was a girl who interested me. Unlike a real one, but a girl nonetheless. She kept tapping her foot while one foot rested on the knee of the other. She wore a huge-dialed watch. Her lose sweatshirt, made it difficult for me to categorize her. Her fingers, constantly moving on the phone. No nail paint. Her hair, falling on her face, short, blunt. She wore spectacles, and there was no sign of kohl. But…
But her fragrance drove me crazy. As I tried to capture her picture on my phone, she looked up and walked towards me, realizing someone was clicking her. I looked at her. Intently. Her waist – brilliant. I was stuck on that.
I heard voices diminishing as she approached…. What’s next, I wondered!
Dev should never know about this.
***
Read Chapter 3 here –> Confrontation
So, we have our very first edition of our second league of publishing Oh! Womania. We have had a lot of agendas, and working on it is great fun. All that we planned is falling in place, one by one. The magazine nonetheless, remains out pet project and we would like to do more, by writing intensely about the issues we care.
Last month, we went about planting trees and raising awareness about Nature. Earth Day edition of the magazine is here finally!
Click here read Oh! Womania Volume 2 Edition 1_Earth Day
Happy Reading..
Light and Love,
~Editors
A Complex with complex stories,
Of untold, unknown glories.
A tower rises here,
An unfinished wider Tower base lying there,
Defaced columns lying everywhere.
Amidst the Ruins of the past,
Rises a Mast!
Its storeys in red,
Echo the stories of the unsaid.
Precincts bask in the glory of the Minar,
Soaring Dictator, time couldn’t Scar!
I was travelling from Delhi to Bhopal. My first lone travel by train. I was petrified. The what-ifs had clouded my mind and it was difficult to think straight.
Nevertheless, I had to brave the journey. While I nervously took my seat in Shatabdi Express, my eyes scanned my precincts. Yes, I had few staring eyes – those murky monsters here and there. And well, the seat near me was empty.
Phew! Hold on, an Indian train with empty seat is a Myth! So no, I got the company of a beetle stained, Guthka chewing, rustic Uncle.
Intermittently he would go.. “Nom nom Nom…Khrrrrr”.
I wondered at my luck. What’s the probability of a hot hunk sitting beside you ever? Zero!
He did stare and scare me off though, and I kept praying that he gets off the train at the next station.
Finally, he did get off at Mathura. I was happy and relieved.
But my happiness was short-lived. Almost all passengers got off at Jhansi. Bad company or No company what’s scarier?? Well, no-one in your friggin’ bogie is indeed scary!
I was nearing hysteria when I heard too much noise. Finally some people were boarding the train. But to my horror, I saw a crowd of eunuchs entering my bogie from everywhere. Imagine my state!
I was told stories of Hijras taking money and doing all sorts of indecent things, if you don’t give them money!
Somewhere I also knew that they don’t trouble girls. But the bogie was empty! Almost! And why would they spare me?!
Soon the compartment was full of them and just one other family of three. I felt like crying, I swore I would never travel alone, I just wanted them out of the train. The beetle-chewing Uncle was better. I had started to like the sound he was making!
No, the empty bogie was better! Rather! I don’t know. I lost the power to think. Time passed and they settled after their long pandemonium.
As I observed them, through the corner of my eye, I realized they were normal people. Normal people, travelling to Bhopal for their All India Conference. They were not asking for money, not doing anything indecent or annoying. They were just enjoying their journey.
Hearing them talk, I realized their discussions were actually fun. They had all sorts of stories to tell. One of them kept asking why the window wouldn’t open. The steward told them it’s an ‘AC compartment’.
In their peculiar tone, they cursed the railways for putting them in a closed compartment, for so such a costly ticket. How they wanted the fresh air to flirt with their faces! I was, kinda awestruck. I started to feel at ease. They were normal. Just like me, or anyone else!
NORMAL!
Furthermore, they were excited to open their tiffin boxes and relish their meals, when suddenly we all were served with – Supper. They did not understand the breadsticks that came with the soup, in Shatabdi, and instead preferred their own meal that they were carrying.
Their leader, Ruksana, who was sitting beside me, offered me a share, too. I sheepishly denied, while I kept thinking how wrong I was, how stupid I was, to judge them according to the perceived notions, which are almost always wrong.
I, in fact, felt safe with them, happy too. And I had a story to tell, so that no- one thinks any less of them. I wish them happiness because they surely brought a smile to my face.
a human trace,
perhaps, a smile
or even a friendly stare..
A laughter here
a sob, or even
a few talks of care
But concrete jungle
stood all around
I felt a strange fear..
I wished for a human sight
instead some wires
dangled near
They weren’t that bad
as I saw them talk
so blatantly to me
objects spoke
as living beings
they were all I could see
“Nexus”, they hinted
the bond they had
it seemed so awfully strange..
we lack that bond
that empathy, that love
this is perhaps the”change”
pic courtesy : Diba
“Zubein”, I introduced myself as I stopped at the reception.
“Please wait there Sir, while I let Mr. Tiwari know that you are here”, she pointed at the seating area.
Orange nail paint! White skin. Her fingers were beautiful. I thought, why didn’t her face appeal at first? I stopped. Turned back. And looked. Looked at her. Her hair – tinge of brown. Eyes, un-kohled. Drab. Nose. Lips. I stared some more. I wanted her looks to attract me. I tried harder. Neck -sleek. A beautiful diamond pendant adorned the chain she wore. Did I notice her lips? I went up a tad. Stared. Just gloss – neat…. down to neck…. pendant!! A nice neckline…further down…. Her breasts. I stared. How were they, I examined carefully as layers of clothes took its shape.
“Excuse me Sir!”, she interrupted. I looked up. Her face looked red, forehead tensed. Offended, was she? Of course. I was staring, wasn’t I? But what was it about her? Why wasn’t she appealing? I had my questions. I wanted to explore more. So, where was I? Breasts. Yes! I looked down again. Decent, I concluded.. And..
“SIR”, she yelled this time. I stood looking at her face, studying the details of her features.
“Please leave!”, she ordered. I continued looking at her. She picked up the phone and dialed a number. I smiled. I knew there would be ruckus after this. I silently picked up my bag, took the newspaper lying on her desk and left. I smiled at the watchman on my way out.
I looked at the newspaper. “Bina Raj”. There were repeated signatures in red ink, over the headlines. It was her name. A chill went down my spine. Her face didn’t do that to me, what her name did. Bina Raj. I tried to recollect her face. I had forgotten already.
While the lift zoomed down, I felt free, gravity playing its part. The whooshing sound of the fan was interrupted by Dev’s call. I smiled. He always had the perfect timing.
“So, when is it going to begin?”, he asked, authoritatively.
“I left already”, I said as-a-matter-of-fact-ly.
“What? You had the call letter. They didn’t let you in?”, he questioned.
“I didn’t reach till… you know…the interviewer”, I started explaining.
“Why? Last when I called you said you were in the lift going to the office reception”, he demanded an explanation.
“The candidate was already selected, so they asked me to leave”, I told believably. He bought it.
“Oh no!”, he was more disappointed than I was. Or was I?
“Zubein, you have to do something. Aunty keeps calling me up and says that you are not getting proposals for marriage because you don’t have a steady income”, he began the same old story.
“Blah, blah, blah, Dev”, I interrupted. “I will get married when I want to. 30 is not an age where I have to start worrying about spending life and dying alone.”, I used my usual guard.
“Ok Ok.. We can talk about it later. Anyway, so what else? Anything interesting?”, he changed the topic.
“Bina Raj”, I said.
“Who is Bina Raj?”, he asked.
“Meet me this weekend, I’ll introduce you to her”, I replied.
“So you are making progress.. eh?. Aunty will be happy! Hope Bina doesn’t have a problem with your unstable income”, Dev teased.
“Unstable income? Watch how she falls for me now”, I reassured.
Fall for me? Hahahaha.. No girl would fall for me. I am “Perversion Personified”. I don’t say it. Once a girl told me that. That’s a nice description. I love titles. Specially given by women. Because they don’t seem to give me anything else. So titles… so be it!
I hadn’t fallen for that receptionist yet. Nothing about her interested me, except her name. Bina. Is it even an interesting name? Perhaps for my painting. I can call one of my paintings Bina. But what was wrong with her? She had the perfect set of fingers. Prettiest nail color, and…
May be I was pulled away before I could analyze her anatomy -below that diamond pendant. So, where do you live, Bina darling?
http://www.facebook.com. My nerves ease, as I open her Facebook page and browse her pictures…
Dev should never know about this.
***
Read CHAPTER 2 here –> 2 :Mr. Painter
Life would be so simple if we lived off the Grid. Money not guiding or rather ruining our lives and thoughts, and corrupting our souls.
In a future where money would cease to exist, the people would be flabbergasted as to how the complete world was driven by – a piece of Paper. How could people fight, kill, rob for that piece of printed paper? A paper with a picture of some leader, not even god – was driving the whole humanity crazy. Even god was accepting money in exchange of his blessings.
Countries waged Wars for that piece of paper.
I already feel stupid!
But then of course, no money – no gain.
Even the so called knowledge we gain in schools is just to get good grades and then a good job for ultimately earning good money. Parents show their love by buying costly things for their children, poor parents cannot love. Children show love by getting a good job and earning that paper.
Our happiness revolves around that small piece of Paper.
Money governs life and luxury. Money governs good quality of stuff. Money governs the life of an individual.
A man’s greed has no place in future. Our resources are exhausting. We can’t afford wastage of resources for our whims and fancies.
I really wish for the world where Money did not exist!
Save the sparrows, save the birds!
Pic Courtesy : aleczdecastro.wordpress.com
Why have we forgotten to be in the sun? Why have we confined ourselves today in air-conditioned enclosures? Was Sun ever a villian in our lives, like it is today? Sunblocks, anti-tans, SPFs are now are saviours from the cruel Sun. Is the Sun at fault? It was always the same.. Then what changed?
Branded clothes, branded accessories, costliest gadgets, whether required or not we want to buy them. Today, even toddlers have become brand conscious or rather brand crazy.
We forgot that, we had freedom to play hide and seek even after the sunset. We had groups of friends and we went for picnics with homemade food in our tiffins. We did not gang up in junk food joints and click selfies. Instead we were out in the Nature, rarely clicking picks because we were busy playing and having fun. Grasping all that was, around us.
There was no need to update or broadcast about our whereabouts to people who were not there, they did not matter. Why are our interactions becoming less personal and more virtual? What are we trying to prove.
You went to a movie! Well, fine enough! So did we, back then.. But was there a need to exhibit it?
Why have we forgotten there were no cell phones still strong relations existed.
Our love, our hate, our education, our health, our fitness, our friendships, our relationships, our daily life, our every moment is reduced to just an update on facebook, instagram and the likes.
We forgot humanity, we forgot Nature.
We live like nothing else exists.
But then we are reminded time and again, that if we continue with our selfish ways, Nature will fight back, and we will lose, again and again!
The unthought development, the cruel deforestation, the criminal wastage of resources, the use of toxis materials and all our Selfish activities need to stop, Right NOW!
Pic Courtesy : Diba
April…
Oh Sweet April..
what did you bring?
Summer rains.. Earthquakes… And…
What more?
Is in store?
A few rounds of devastations..
Vindictiveness at galore?
What do you want, oh! Nature..
From tiny beings called men?
Can they really feel the heat?
let alone comprehend!
What do you want from us?
this April, May or June..
Since years you’ve been asking..
“Is it really…too soon?”
Perhaps it’s not..
then..
Is it too late?
Have we lost our chance
to clean our dirty slates..
and begin anew??
Nature dear,
what has made you lose the harmony
with us?
Is it the civilization…
but isn’t that a must?
Man is nature too..
And he will cut trees
and destroy you..
to Survive..
Because that’s how
He will live in peace
and make you strive..
So, what’s this wreck all about..
Tell us?
Do you want us to dissolve
in your precious dust?
We will.. one day..
But let us be the one..
Who will lead us that way..
And not you..
Who will tell us what to do..
We are mighty, all powerful..
We want to be the one..
who will Destroy
OURSELVES..
and YOU..
so stop acting like..
you are Mother Nature – the great..
Because that’s what you do..
We tell you again..
We are already heading towards
Doom..
So, spare us..
This April.. May and June..
We are too proud to let anyone else..
Destroy us!
Dear Nature! You can take a break!
Summer heat is bad and harsh and hurts your eyes. We need to take good care of our eyes, fashionably good. 😉
Sunnies are a must to bear the heat and keep our eyes cool. In last few years, we have seen a leap in sunshade designs.
From glasses, to frames everything you can imagine is available in the market. With great choices, comes great confusion.
We are here to make the effort more fun and less cumbersome.
The glasses to select according to the shape of your face.
Trending glasses this season:
The reflective blues, greens, golds, mercury, from last season.
Still in vogue and dabanngish!
The aviators, wayfarers, never out of fashion and always a saviour.
The latest is trend are the quirky, retro, funky framed glasses. The floral print, the animal print, the jarring colors and all for keeps.
“Fix this”, she demanded. “It keeps turning red every time I try to run it”
“THIS reset knob honey”, he pointed to the mixer base. “Right here”.
She scuffed, realizing that the easiest job of pushing a knob and resetting a mixer was impossible without her man.
He smiled. Thinking, if he could fix such simple things for her, life probably isn’t so difficult.
“What’s feminism all about, then, huh?”, he mocked, as he saw her go back to the kitchen.
“What feminism? I do not know anything about that crap!” she replied back.
“You can’t reset a simple electronic kitchen item, WOMAN!?”, he mocked again!
“Hey man! You studied mechanics in your college. I studied art. Ask me to fix a painting, I would!”, she replied.
“Ya, right! That’s exactly what feminism is”, he laughed. Harder this time.
“I never said I was any of the femini-crap. I am just a woman, who can’t fix a mixer. Do you get that, husband?”, she made her point.
“I get that wife!”, he browsed through some papers and envelopes as he realized, this was a usual start to just another morning.
“Now get going. There’s a lot to do”, she ordered from the kitchen as she saw her husband lazing around.
“Hmmm”, he ignored her, and went through the envelopes one by one. He chanced upon a report card. His son’s report card. He had failed miserably in a few tests and later perform fairly well. His progress card showed, how his performance underwent a drastic change from a ‘F’ to B-. He was furious. He wanted to scold his son, for hiding this from him. He called out his name.
Sleepy eyed, the little guy, 12 years old, came and stood in front of his father. “Good morning, Daddy”, he smiled.
“What’s this?”, he asked the son, when the mother overheard and came to see what was going on. The little guy stood there, confused, not knowing in what context was his father talking.
“Did you fail in your exam…twice? And you did not care to tell me about it?”, he shouted.
“Go get ready for school, Micky”, the mother asked her child to leave and confronted the father.
“What’s the problem?”, she asked.
“What’s with the progress card? He failed in his exams and I wasn’t even informed about it? Where has he been wasting his time?”, he yelled.
“Can you see the progress in the progress card, darling? Isn’t that what we should be happy about?”, she defended her son.
He stood there silently, not knowing what to say.
“I knew there was a problem. I fixed it. Can you see it?”, she asked her husband, very gently.
He nodded.
“Could you have fixed it the way I did?”, she probed again.
He stood there in silent affirmation.
“When you’d be able to do what I did exactly in the same way, like I’d fix the mixer the way you did, then we could both be femini-crap, whatever, Right?”, she smiled.
“What does that even mean?”, he asked, totally perplexed!
“Feminism, doesn’t mean women being able to do the tasks that men do. There are some tasks that women will never be able to do. And there are some tasks that men will do better. The approach will be different. Because men and women are different! Get that?”, she sounded confident.
“Then what is feminism?”, he asked.
“It’s the acceptance that men and women are different, but that is exactly what needs to be respected. If I don’t fix that darn mixer, I am no less a woman and if you can’t handle our son with love, you no macho man”, she went on.
“Come here”, he hugged her, understanding, how she fixed all the major problems of house with love and left all the minor problems to him. Her strength was love, and she managed most of the things with that.
“Now, come with me. That crazy oven isn’t heating up”, she looked into his eyes, kissed him and headed back to the kitchen.
Those days were really awesome. The Sundays began with Shaktimaan, and Fridays ended with Dekh Bhai Dekh or Shrimaan Shrimati. Sunday Nights, again Surabhi was a treat to the mind and soul! Once a week, these serials really gave us the quintessential entertainment we would need to go on with life!
More than that, what stayed was… The title songs! They were EPIC! To say the least! 😉
1. Shaktimaan :
….. Adbhut Adam ye saahas ki Paribhasha hai.. Ye mitati Maanvta ki Aasha hai!
Indeed… Aasha. .what would have we done without Shaktimaan and his lovely moral science lessons!
2. Shrimaan Shrimati:
Dilruba, Prema, Keku Ji and Koki ji! This serial gave the essence of marriage in one line
“Suno Suno ek baat pate… laakh takke ki… Ghar ki biwi dal ke jaise..aur ki biwi – lagti hai murgi!! Kyu Shrimaan ji.. “;)
3. Chandrakanta:
Chandrakanta, who was eternally beautiful, prince Virendra and the perfect Villain there ever could be – Krur Singh! It was the perfect fantasy tale ! And a lot more.. Like the song says…
..Naugad Vijaygad me thi takraar..Naugad the jo rajkumaar… chandrakanta se karta tha pyaar!
4. Dekh Bhai Dekh
Such a perfect family, this was. It used to be a breather, this serial. With such lovely, stupid characters, who would make us laugh, cry and feel so good about every little thing!
And this is by far the only serial whose title song is the best! For us!
…Iss Rang badalti duniya me..kya tera hai kya mera hai..
Dekh bhai dekh!
5. Surabhi
When there were very little quiz, or knowledge shows, and earning prizes over television was unthought of, Surabhi, was the one of its kind back then. I remember sending out my answers on postcards to the questions they would ask at the end of every episode.
The title track would make me wrap my dinner asap, and sit in front of the TV watching, what seemed to be an entertainment-cum-informative program which could help you win prizes! 😉
Any more recollections? Drop in your comments and let us know! 🙂
Do you know, how much we are harming the earth, knowingly or unknowingly? Even if we think we are not, there are many of our close folks who are doing this, hence increasing their carbon footprints. Do you know what a major difference it could make, if you could plant only 1 tree a year? And if trees were given as birthday gifts, or planted as memorials, imagine the good we would be doing to our Earth.
I go to see a room for myself. They show me the place, it’s beautiful and I love it instantly. They are sweet and warm, and I feel at home. I ask about the advance payment and all the other formalities. They describe everything meticulously. I am asked to sign the rent agreement papers, and as I write my name, they freeze!
With a trembling voice they ask, “You are a Mohammadin?”
“A Muslim, oh yes!”, I reply with the same excitement and smile.
Busy signing the agreement, I had missed the expressions of sheer horror on their faces. I suddenly realized it might be the food that they might be worried about!
I start laughing, “Oh no no! I won’t have non- veg in your apartment. In fact I am an eggetarian!”
But to my dismay, they look extremely stupefied. I ask is there any problem? To which they say their apartment is unavailable. “Sorry!”, they mumble.
They got up and all the warmth vanished in a flick of second. Only stern looks remained. I stood up, shocked, hurt, and scared! How could they think, I would do them harm? Before I told them my name, everything was so good.
Then what changed?
Was I living in an illusion all this while? Is this what happens? I was choked; my faith was a threat to me, to my existence. My friends never made me feel left out because of my faith, then why them?
I moved on. I finally got a home, and they were okay with me being a Muslim. They liked me as a person and I felt happy again. It helped me retain my faith in humanity.
Yes, things happen, sometimes, because of your religion, sometimes because of your gender, sometimes – your color, sometimes your economic status!
But few years later a Muslim friend of mine, told me that she couldn’t find a house closer to her husband’s office, because of her this same situation – her religion. They don’t entertain you after knowing your name. There are areas which are for Muslims and Christians and there are areas for Hindus. They call you Pakistani, they call you ‘Mussadde’, but they don’t understand you are human too!
Another incident which happened with me at the airport, made me question the underlying social conditioning. It wasn’t just the problem with religion, here.
My family and I were standing in a queue for the security check. Suddenly a man just ahead of me started screaming frantically about a bag, kept in front of him.
It wasn’t his, or anyone’s in the queue. We all got panicky. The noise alerted the security guards and they came with their dogs and called for their chief officer too. I could see, even the guards were mighty scared to touch and investigate the bags. My mom was nearing hysteria, when suddenly the owner of the bag came running. A bearded man, without moustache, wearing Patiala kurta or Afghani kurta!
He was meek and tiny and nowhere scary! But my mom exclaimed, “Oh my god, ye toh terrorist type ka hi lagra hai”.
Yes my Muslim mom was scared of another person, because he was Muslim, had beard, and was wearing a kurta.
I told my mom, “If someone else had said that you would have been hurt but look at you! You are scared, yourself”.
So maybe it’s not their fault, not the man’s fault- who was sadly strangled and taken into custody by the officers. It’s the matrix we are given, fed with and that now is totally into our systems!
The media, the internet, the movies, has drawn and fed us with a certain image of the terrorist. We fear that imagery, not necessarily the people or the faith, but that imagery!
It’s a game much bigger than religion and faith, its money and power at work. I was ignorant of the underlying truth of renting a house; I was unaware that unknowingly a fabricated image has crept into our systems. And we judge by what we are fed. Such an intense maze, an indeed complicated matrix!
World was a happy place when I was ignorant!.
The other day I heard something about sterilizing a particular sect, to control THEIR population but I ignored it, because I have learnt ‘Ignorance is Bliss!’
You keep a sinful donut in the fridge because you can’t add on any more calories to the diet. So you keep it! In your fridge!
Then you go and perform your chores set through the day. All the while you subconsciously crave for just one bite of the sumptuous chocolate-filled donut. While cooking or cleaning or working or driving – it’s always on your mind.
You know back there, in your own refrigerator – is your love, which you can’t unite with. But it still tempts you, distracts you from living the moment. Even if you forget, you brain knocks on the temples and prompts “Hello, you need to feel bad about something. Try and remember the story!”
So you see what you’ve done? Created a matrix for yourself. If you love the donut, eat it! If you can’t, then don’t keep it, to torment you later.
That silly 2-inched diametrically round thing made you lose concentration, made you feel bad, tempted you into thinking about it, and made you feel guilty!
Similar is the story of life, we first plant devils in our life, knowing well that they will ruin us, then we feed those devils by giving them mind space and top-most priority.
It’s just like a petty donut, we know but in reality it is so much more. For instance, shopping for practically no reason, or just because there is sale, the excessive bitching, body shaming, insecurity, so many things.
So many tiny demons devastate our peace on regular basis. Some we plant, some are sown by others, and some don’t even exist. But yeah we feed them all, consciously, subconsciously…. Creating so many matrices that our peace of mind, our soul, our own self gets lost in this ruckus!
And then there is debris of things lying, all rotten, which once looked appealing. You can take it or leave it, because you have been feeding it all this while. It is now stuck. It is slowly consuming you. The little worries, tensions, unnecessary details about other people’s lives, pessimism – everything has been feeding on the energy you provide it. That energy is called attention.
So just let it go. As long as we attend to it, it feeds more and becomes stronger. Why not feed the positives thoughts? If the Matrix is unescapable, we might as well create a positive matrix which empowers us.
That one donut, is all it takes. Take it or leave it. If it is left behind, forget it! If not, do not let it feed off your attention.
Pic Coutesy: http://photo.net/photodb/photo?photo_id=1907902
I am a guy. And this is no fiction. Or farce. Or a story made up to sell a women-centric magazine. This is a place that I found to express who I am, without the fear of being judged. They said, they won’t publish my name. I was happy to contribute on that condition. Why don’t I want my name to be known? You will know your answer by the end of this post that I am writing. Your curiosity and disbelief will make you judge me and I don’t want to be subjected to that. I choose not to.
So. I am a guy. That’s where I began, right? Born that way. But I am a transgendered woman. You read it right. I have not undergone any alterations, per se, but I take the get-up of a woman. Because that’s who I really am. I have never felt otherwise. I have always found myself in this mortal quandary, about my existence, that it would not let me sleep in peace.
For 22 years I lived with it. Tossing the questions my mind kept throwing at me and the societal conditioning that kept refuting them. Until, I realized, I should end this game. I won’t lie here; I won’t deny things that I have done to seek peace. I also contemplated suicide many times, not being able to live a certain way and feel in a certain way.
During my days in the engineering college, sharing my room with three other guys was the toughest thing I could ever do. I was not one of them. When they all went out for dinner, I would put on makeup and feel nice. I grew my hair until my shoulder and I hated the hair that grew on my face. Only if I could get rid of all that. But I had to pretend to be a man amidst three other. Like God had heeded to all my prayers, one day, I found a guy who understood who I was. I could talk to him openly, I was respected, love, accepted. Acceptance!
That was the most liberating feeling I could ever ask for. I developed feelings for him. I thought he deserved it. I had found an oasis in the lonely desert. Finally he quenched my thirst. Or was it a mirage? It was a mirage. He abused me for 2 whole years during my hostel life. He would take all my money. He would hit me blue and black for not providing him with his basic necessities. He would send me links of things he wanted for himself and make me buy it for him. I did it. Because I couldn’t afford to lose that guy who had finally understood who I was. I believed that I loved him. One day, I satisfied him otherwise. He seemed to like
it. The levels of our commitments changed. Apart from spending money on him, I was supposed to satisfy him to. I liked it. I won’t lie. It was perfect, only if he became more responsible and stopped asking for so much money from me.
My father was a government servant and I couldn’t afford to spend recklessly on him. I did anyway. He was the one. THE ONLY ONE. Later, I came out to a few of my other friends and they loved me despite knowing who I was. Suddenly, I had more people who stood by me and accepted me. I found the guts to break free from that abusive relationship. He threatened to disclose who I was to everyone. I was scared, but I knew, I had to face that day. Finally, before college ended I wrote a “coming out mail” to all my friends and offered them a choice to stay in touch with me if they felt like; else they were free to go. A few of them are still in touch.
My family is still in shock and they hope I get well soon. I work at an advertising agency in Delhi and my colleagues are supportive. I feel the same inside out now. There is no sham, no
show, and no pretense.
I am a transgendered woman, still finding the courage to come out openly, and live bravely. I have taken my first step towards living a life I wanted, slowly, as society changes, I will change too. It’s too soon now.
May be someday I’ll share my journey here.
Again!
***
Read the edition on “coming out of the closet” here –> In search of me
By Sabeeh Abidi, Cosmetologist
Oily skin people need to face many problems. They have to handle acnes and pimples and have to be selective while choosing the products. You need to take care to remove excess oil and protect your skin from dirt and pollution. You can also use the natural ingredients and get clear, glowing and shiny skin.
Yogurt and strawberry pack
Take ¼ cup of fresh strawberries. Add ¼ cup of yogurt to it. Blend smoothly and make a paste. Apply this packfor 15 minutes. Wash with normal water. And here it goes! A refreshing skin is what you will get.
Yogurt and orange peel pack
Take 2 tbsp. of yogurt and add to it 2 tbsp. of orange peel. Mix well and apply it on face. Keep for 20 minutes. And wash with lukewarm water. Oranges are best for oily skin. It helps to eliminate excess oil from the skin.
Cucumber and Yogurt face pack
Cucumbers are cooing for the skin. They are the best to be used in summers. Grate a cucumber and mix the pulp of it to 2 tbsp. of yogurt. Mix well and apply this pack on the face for 15 minutes and wash with warm water. This pack will refresh your skin and help close the open pores.
Lemon and Potato
Take potato juice and lemon juice in equal quantity. Mix well and apply it on your face. Wash it after 15 minutes with normal water. This pack will tone your skin and also help removing the tan.
These face packs can be used one or twice a week. Use them and maintain the beauty of the oily skin.
Short love-story
Whatsapp
Boy: dinner tonight?
Girl : ok
After dinner, while dropping her home
Boy: (kiss)
Girl: why don’t you come for a coffee, my folks are out of town!!
After making out,
Boy: i love you
Girl: oh, how sweet, but i am committed
***
Yes, shit happens! With the virtual world becoming more and more real, shit keeps getting shittier. Gone were the days when kiss was The Kiss – the love seal. Now kisses happen, randomly, for no reason, and surely not out of love.
People date- to update their Facebook relationship status. People go for romantic rides only for an Instagram update. The make-ups, the hook-ups, the break-ups are all there, archived on the social network. Everything is for the heck on a virtual update. You keep dating for updating and you miss on the actual fun of it.
Romance is out of fashion! At least romancing with one person at a time is totally out of trend now. Its boring to wait for a reply from one, when you can text ten! Today, there is no patience in love, the break-ups, divorces happen at the drop of a hat. We are so influenced by the celebs online that we want to live their lives, the good, the bad, the ugly and the superficial. We fake love, we fake orgasms, we fake for the likes on the internet.
Love is pretentious, love is not even understood. People don’t have the time to wait for the ONE. Most relationships are hurried affairs and thoughtless commitments, they end as fast as they begin. Yes, love may be hyped, but Only love is real.
Too many simultaneous relationships, sex as a sport, and romance with a mouse click, are degenerating love and the purity of it. The lack of understanding makes people feel more lonely, the rate of depression is high because we don’t have the time to reflect, to talk, to look into each others eyes and understand. The tech savvy world has no time, the time is spent on the web. Hence we are feeling lonelier than ever. We don’t even know whether we fall for someone out of loneliness or love. Happiness has reduced to number of likes online!
As for love – its out of fashion. Evidently poetry today has lost its soul… Hence the songs we sing are…’aaj blue hai paani paani…aur din bhi saany saany’ 
A few of our most read articles from Oh! Womania Edition is compiled and made available here
One year of writing, expressing and publishing, has made us stronger. As we foray into another set of editions, here’s a tiny throwback!
…let the nature peep in..
Dear TRAI,
You have been very generous with us Indians and given us facilities which otherwise wouldn’t have been available to us. I remember how your generous free sms packs charged a fat 1 re on holidays, festivals and whenever we needed sms services the most. You have crossed the limits of doctoral research and done extensive studies on when to charge highest and when are your customers most vulnerable to pay. Back then I knew you as a body which makes free sms chargeable with a friendly intimation.
Now that you have gone far ahead in your endeavors of how else to make money by yet again creating a new money minting scheme of net non-neutrality I felt an urge to write to you.
I doubt you have any TRP agenda. So this is a serious matter then. You plan to sabotage India’s future in a totally novel way. Weren’t we already under so many restrictions that now you restrict our net usage? I mean seriously you want to charge us for the sites we use? Is this the start of Virtual Fascism or what?
I have a smartphone and all I do on it is use the net. Ye,s our telecom companies are losing on first, the smses, and now the phone call income, because of the new creative and path breaking apps. When you’ve let it flourish, then why sulk now?
Or you wanted us to get so addicted to the internet that it becomes our oxygen and then you blackmail us of cutting the supply?
First you make internet dirt cheap and then when we start using it, first you start increasing the rentals then you slow down the speed and give speed-boosting-pocket-emptying packs!!
And now… You just make it impossible to use the net by creating slots and charging freakingly crazy amount??
Every Indian today is connected via net, people are working, learning, studying, making money, shopping through this very internet. India has so many start-ups that thrive on the net connectivity. We voice our opinions stay updated, share our lives on the internet. Our lives are almost virtual, yes that’s bad, but that’s how it is and that is a totally different story!
Now you wish to be the internet hitler who will dictate our choices, our usage, our net speed and yes make us shell out all our money?
India needs #NetNeutrality for all. Because we need it for our country’s development. I guess you guys missed the speech about free internet and wi-fi cities! Don’t take us back to stone age!
PLEASE!
Yours faithfully,
24×7 internet user.
PS: To save the internet, click here –> http://www.savetheinternet.in/
Pic courtesy: Diba Raza
we love parenting….
the elder sisters are not sisters they are mothers..
the brothers are not brothers they are bodyguards..
the mothers are not mothers, they are goddesses
and the fathers are the ruler of the dynasty of the kingdom we belong to!
family is not a family! family is worship!
Imagine, how wonderfully the wants of the child are fulfilled.
he wants a chocolate, he gets one!
he doesn’t like spicy dal, he gets the sweeter one
the girl doesn’t like red, she dresses in pink
the entire wardrobe is pink
they ask for ipads
they ask for barbies
they ask for distractions
and they are given…
because they are children..
and when they grow up..
they are denied many things!
they are told that art is bad, engineering is good
playing cricket is bad, studying is good
expressing or talking the heart out is bad,
keeping quiet is good!
Because – RESPECT!
and they grow up even more..
they are not respected for their decisions..
having a girlfriend is bad, marrying at 21 is good
having a boyfriend is bad, obeying parents is good
getting married outside caste is bad,
sleeping with stranger after marriage is good.
if that’s not enough…
then they say..
girl loving girl is bad, staying single instead is good.
boy loving boy is evil, dying is good.
And these kids grow up more..
And become like their own parents, who decided their fate all the while!
Imagine, today if your kids ask you for an orange flavoured ice cream, you would give them..
they ask you to buy a cricket bat, you’d buy them
they ask you for a long drive, you’d take them!
Because you love your child….
If your child is sick, you take care
if your child breaks a leg, your heart aches..
if your child has any disability, you love despite anything!
What if your child grew up to become a teenager and says, he’s Gay?
Would you still love the child?
Or satisfy the ego!
Supporting the cause is one thing..
being in that situation is another..
All you new parents… Will you be ok if your kid turned out to be gay?
if your answer is no! Don’t hypocritically support what you don’t believe in!
Change, or at least don’t pretend!
Because there are many kids out there, who eat non vegetarian food, despite being high class brahmins, and the parents do not know!
there are kids who smoke and drink and the parents do not know!
there are kids who go to the brothels for pleasure, and the parents do not know!
And even if they did, they would be sad, angry, and upset! But would they stop loving their kids?
No!
So if your kid makes a choice! Let them! Whatever it may be..Because, perhaps, they are not kids anymore!
Pic Courtesy: Diba Raza
We live in a world where so many things are happening around us. Have you ever thought about the kid who comes to your car window every morning at the signal, asking for alms? Some days you let out a few coins that lie in your dashboard, and other times you just pretend to be involved in what the RJ is blabbering on the Radio. The same case is with bike riders. Haven’t you felt like kicking the filthy kids away when they cling to your fresh pair of trousers, begging for alms, pretending to clean your bike with a rag? How mad do you get when the signal makes you wait for more than a minute? Gets on your nerves, right? How about those instances when certain girls stand on streets skimpily dressed?
You mistake her as a spoiled girl attracting guys, questioning her modesty. You label her as prostitute. Perhaps she is one. Perhaps you are right.
But she isn’t one by choice, you know. Maybe she is trafficked into this business. Maybe someone is earning money out of the service she provides. May be she has an agent watching over her, tracking her every movement, making sure she is delivering her duties as expected. Those annoying kids you encounter at the signal are perhaps not beggars, but kids trafficked into the business, kept in horrible situations, forced to beg, their body parts mutilated to attract sympathy from the passersby, so that they earn for their agents. Do you recollect how this concept functions in the much acclaimed movie Slumdog Millionaire?
We all live amongst so many humans who are sold, but we refuse to either accept it or act about it blindly and continue to move in with our so-called complicated lives. We have these evils around us but we refuse to acknowledge them, why? Whenever a kid comes and asks for alms have we ever tried to ask about its whereabouts, instead of simply handing over some currency and feeling satisfied about a deed well done? Do you realize a deed, which you think is noble, must instead be treading a path of ruin and disaster for the kid? Temporary riddance of beggars, is that the solution?
Commenting on prostitutes, without knowing their background, is it okay? Can we afford to think beyond what is, and what could be? Do children really need to stand on roads and beg? Do you know about NGOs whom you can contact when you see destitute on streets?
There are NGOs which provide better living conditions for these victims. They rescue the trafficked men, women and children and provide them a better life. We google about “hot Deepika Padukone pictures” on the internet, but do we care to find out details about and NGO which may be working for this cause? Instead of feeling sorry for a woman on the road, who appears pregnant asking for alms, let’s resolve to set her life straight by finding a solution.
Sometimes it is all a farce to lure us into paying them money and making business for the miscreants by portraying a sorry state of a person.
All of us may not know the solution to these problems immediately, but have we sought? Isn’t everything available on the internet? Don’t we have helplines? So many us watch Satyameva Jayate, applaud Aamir Khan, shed a few tears and forget about it once the season is over. There are so many issues. Important ones, but what keeps us busy? Malls? Movies? Why are we so ignorant about such basic things?
Shouldn’t human trafficking bother us? If yes, we should do something. And for those who answer NO, you can shift to Hawaii and enjoy your life on the beaches without any worries. You will find your peace there!
***
Check out the Edition on Human Trafficking : –> https://ohwomania.wordpress.com/2014/09/13/human-trafficking-edition-7/
Stinky Smelly feet in Summers! A problem?
Most of the footwear in the shoe-rack are rendered useless with the sweltering heat and sweat! Indian summers definitely call for better shoe range. And guess what we do have a variety available!
Summer calls for open slip ons, strappies, floaters, wedges, kolhapuris, flip flops….
Gather some funky colorful airy chappals. Pink, blue, yellow, golden, silver, red, black.
Slip ons and flip flops for gowns and skirts.
Gladiators with your hot short pants.
Kolhapuris with your denims, capris and shorts or short skirts…. Is a lovely fusion!
And then you are all set to rock the summer of 2015 ! 🙂
Its Summers, and in my hot summery city, its time for the coolers to be cleaned and water filled in its tank. Oh! The refreshing fragrance of the KHUS, the smell of wet mud… better than the smell of air fresheners within Air conditioned walls..
That very KHUS takes you back in time, to the month of April, or exams and mangoes. The month of stressful studies. And then came the much awaited relief – the two months of Summer vacations.
The vacations were planned before the exams commenced. Mostly a trip to Nani’s place. Wasn’t it the best place in the world? Who went to Dubai or London for summers, we were happy to go to our grandparents, a huge family get-together unlike today’s getaways!
Space was never a problem when mattresses and cots were spread on the terrace, courtyards, verandahs, living rooms, kitchen, balconies and every other nook and corner.
Who needed an Ipad or a mobile when Carrom under a fluorescent bulb was a major entertainment? The crickets and hide and seeks, the gossips and the chats, the board games and the ground games. Time just flew at grandma’s home.
The variety of food and fruits still feels mouth-watering. How the mango supply from the basket never ended… But the holidays surely did!
And today the holidays are no more the same, summer holidays have summer schools, camps and blah, where there is no real fun! Like we used to have!
Space is a major issue. X-boxes and I-pads have taken away the board game glory! And the mangoes!!??…. Nah they don’t taste the same!
Good Old Days!
…and the nature paints a perfect picture! What could we do to save Nature! ?
Picture Courtesy : Diba Raza
I am a very proud Indian citizen. I am proud of the rich heritage and culture and all the paraphernalia that comes along with being an Indian! But there a few things I REFUSE to do, as a part of being a “good”, “accommodating” citizen of India!
1. I refuse to get myself and my bag checked while I enter the malls, or multiplexes!
2. I refuse to open my car trunk or two wheeler dicky and get it security checked at these malls again.
3. I refuse to comply with the system which claims to have security in place!
I REFUSE!
And no, the reason is not that I carry bombs with me, and I want an easy escape! No!
The reason is that, They F***ing do not CHECK anything when I am stopped for any of these.
Last week, I visited a very famous mall in Bangalore. At the entrance, there was a separate lane for the ladies to enter. It led to a small security check area. The female, almost tickled me waist down, and I couldn’t help but giggle. I turned around, anticipating another round of check, but that was it. She said that was it and asked me to show her my bag. I opened my bag and she simple closed the zip again and said thankyou!
For what it seemed like, I could be easily carrying four packs of grenade inside my bag, two pistols in my shoe, and at least a kilo of bomb material on my back, and I could’ve easily gotten through that security check! Without getting caught! I could have very well planted a bomb in that mall and blown the huge building and thousands of people into bits. You know why? Because in the name of security check, that stupid women, freakin’ tickled me, and heard how my bag zip sounded like when it went zzzpp zzzzzppp..
What the F!
I am amused when I see the watchmen who stop the cars entering the mall, ask them to open the trunk and just close it with a bang. What about the area under the stepney, or on the back seat, on inside the car! Or how about letting a dog sniff, or do away with these waste checks altogether!!
There is no purpose of these security checks at all. This shows, that how casual our approach towards our job is. It shows that we do not do our job well, nor do we let other do, let alone, encouraging them to do a proper screening!
I did a strange thing this time when I went to the same mall again. I asked the lady to check my bag completely. She insisted, that it was OK and I could leave. Her smile lacked that seriousness. I asked her what her job was, she clearly spelled it out to me, and I made her do it! And you know what… she was not happy screening my bag! Or me.
With this attitude if we live, and hear about a bomb blast somewhere, let’s not blame a certain organisation or religion!
Only if we did our duties well, we wouldn’t be in trouble! As security guards, they need to do a proper screening, and we as citizens, need to push them to do a better job!
Else, we can all happily, call ourselves BLUFFMASTERS! It all goes and comes back in circles, you see!
Like it were day and night
Or that one fight over the dress..
White and gold, or black and blue
And all that ephemeral mess
In the name of feminism and chauvinism!
The world is getting divided…
No goodness in humanity remains
The hearts are no more united!
They are fighting over silly things
Dissecting topics to bits
The world is lacking humanity
It’s not good!! Or is it?
Heard a couple fighting
when I walked in to a mall the other day!
Women have privileges, men don’t
Look at what the poster says!
Benefits on travelling, on reservations,
On sales and buses too
The women get it all, what the heck,
Even when it comes to shoes!
And then the empowerment crap
teaches the men forbearance
But, this sale on shoes is sheer injustice
what’s with “JUST” 50% off, even on clearance??
Paris… Valentine’s Day Eve..2011!
Surreal, it was
so beautiful..
when you met me in the woods
I looked at you
you looked at me
and took home as much as we could
since that day
been looking for ya
come to me.. wherever you are…
In the night, for me, sun shines
when I think of you
It’s morning time….in the evening too..
The Street Musicians serenaded the audience.
She went ahead and dropped a cent in the hat. She did not smile.
“Madamoiselle”, the guitar guy called out.
She turned back.
“Merci”, he said and smiled.
She thought she needed to talk to them.
“Do you speak English?”, she asked.
“A bit”, he replied.
“How about you?”, she asked the guy who had sung the song.
“I just sung the entire song in English”, he replied.
“You know your song sucks”, the girl said.
The guys laughed.
“What sense do the lyrics make? In the night, sun shines When I think of you It’s morning time in the evening too..”, the girl pointed out.
“Pourquoi amie?”, asked one of them.
“Why?”, the other translated.
“You cannot go against nature, even if you think about the one you love. It can never be morning in the night, nor can sun shine instead of the moonlight”, she replied.
“When in love, everything is possible”, the singer replied.
Looking at the crowd, the musicians started playing again. The girl stood next to them and saw them play the instruments passionately.
The lead singer began, as the guitarist dedicated each and every chord to the lady, the other guitarist wooed the audience.
“And I saw her walking
walking…
It was her shadow that
she left behind..
The people started talking
talking…
The path began to
unwind…
Her grace, her charm
and her smile
The way she held me in her eyes
for a while..
“Naa nanaaa naanaa”, the audience joined.
The girl wondered if they sang for her. She wasn’t very sure.
“Y’all only sing about girls, and your love for them?“ she asked.
“What else is more beautiful in the world, lady? “asked the guitarist in a French accent.
His sight pierced deep into her eyes. She couldn’t reciprocate for long. She turned away.
“Why don’t you sing something about France, Paris, it’s history?“ asked the girl.”We have been doing it, mademoiselle”, the singer replied.
“Where?”, she asked
They started another song..
“I saw a pretty woman
To the bar she went
And as she came out and saw me standing
She put me a cent
I held her as I
Played the strings
She wouldn’t stay near,
She had her wings
She flew around and came to me
I saw the love in her that she saw in me
We looked at each other, and looked above
She denied it all, but she was in love
In a wondrous place
Stood a city of romance
Her mind would trace
All the steps of the dance
That she wanted to
Dance with the guy
Which she couldn’t do
When she looked into his eyes
She acted crazy I had no clue
I played for the lady
My favorite tune
We looked at each other, and looked above
She denied it all, but she was in love
In a moment to Cherish
A moment of Chance
She comes and asks me
Sing to me of France
She acted crazy I had no clue
I played for the lady
My favorite tune
We looked at each other, and looked above
She denied it all, but she was in love
The audience again joined the musicians.
By now, the girl knew, they were singing for her.
“What’s your name”, the guitarist asked, as he continued playing the chords.
“Georgia”, she replied
“Pretty you”, he added.
She blushed and added “yours?”
“Noah”, he replied and asked “Dance with me, will you?”
She smiled. She hadn’t smiled in a while.
“What is your favorite song?“ asked the singer guy.
“I like what you are singing. Go on”, Georgia said.
“This is the city of love, lady. We sing of love, speak of love, and dance in love”, said the Noah.
“You speak good English”, complimented Georgia.
“It’s the language of love that makes you understand what I say”, said Noah and twirled her around as she took a few turns and came back to him.
The audience applauded.
It was a serendipitous evening and she fell in love, in the city of love, with the city and the people.
“Everything is possible in love”, it resonated in her mind, as she hummed the tune she’d danced on.
April time means exam time! I remember how frantic we would get, thinking about exams and question papers. More than that, we would be worried where our seating would be, next to which girl – senior or junior!
Once the seating was figured out, we would then aim on exhibiting our exam stationary. Those exam pads were flaunted proudly. Because, either it would have new fancy stickers over it, or you would have the nicest and fanciest one out there in the market!!
We, as convent girls, made sure the answer sheet looked prettier than anyone elses. With ink pens, pilot pens, and pencil and rulers aiding us to present that perfect paper! Sometimes we scored marks for only maintaining correct margins and one finger space between words!!
It used to be great fun on the last day of our final exams, where we would let go all our tensions, hang out with friends for an extra one hour because you wouldn’t get to see them for the next two months.
And indulge in some “prohibited” snacks and drinks, because our parents thought that falling ill during the exams isn’t such a great idea!
Borkut for 50ps and Samosa with coconut chutney – 3 Rs a plate! That was some treat!
And then the anticipation of coming back to school, with an altogether new class, or same old folks, would keep us going for good 2 months! And not to forget.. Those Summer Holidays were fun too!
Sigh! Good old school days!
…and we are fooled by it.. Happy All Fools Day!
There have been a lot of posts doing rounds on the social media in reaction to #vogueempower campaign. It doesn’t matter what take I have. But there is one thing that I have a problem with. The problem is..
To have sex before marriage, to have sex out of marriage, or to not have sex
My choice
No.. The problem isn’t this statement. Don’t get me wrong. The problem is the interpretation of this statement! Out of all the other beautiful and motivating lines in that voiceover, we decide to pick this one line and react to it!
Congratulations India! It proves how stuck up we are, especially when it comes to sex.
We have ignored all the other empowering and encouraging things that the video conveys, instead we have decided to draw comparison between men and women based on this one line. This one topic. This one and only topic – The national Taboo of India – SEX!
So Deepika Padukone in her accented yet powerful voiceover says
“To have sex before marriage, to have sex out of marriage, or to not have sex
My choice”
Can we for a moment, think how the men in India function? Not the good ones. Not the gentlemen. They are a different breed. I have no qualms against them. But let’s focus on a state in India and the men belonging to that state. Say Haryana. Or UP. Or Bihar! Or Tamil Nadu. Or AP? Or MP! Or…
Let just go with Haryana, for the obvious ‘Men: Women’ ratio and other facts which are pretty known. Men HAVE sex outside marriage and women are expected to be OK with it. Having extramarital sex is for pleasure. It’s a prerogative of men to have a healthy pleasure activity, apart from work, and family. Give me one good fact or figure that denies this statement. Do we have anything that would falsify this claim? No, right?
Now tell me what would happen if the women of these states decide to start having sex outside marriage? Sure it would be clearly wrong. The most incorrect thing ever. But imagine the revolution, if they start disobeying their elders, if they start un-following the rules and break free after years of suppression and sleep around with other men or women, just because they need “pleasure”, “healthy pleasure”. What would happen? They would rather be killed. But if the men do not succeed in killing these women, then they would be the next powerful thing that ever could be. Is this scenario too disturbing?
Yes, I am sure it is. There is a fear of women doing the things that men do. Because , then the powers will be handed over to the fairer sex. And the long existing male dominance will end!
This is not about SEX.
This is about power! Here SEX is the analogy, taken in the prose. And it has caused the essential stir it was meant to create!
Why are men so offended? All the men out there know, that their brethren do it with pride. They have sex with pride. There is power in it. To subdue a woman. To feel that power of having a woman obey orders. How many times, is sex mutual?
Let’s come to the cities now. The metropolitan. Here, the story perhaps is a little twisted. With women catching up pace with men, there is no difference practically. The women have sex for pleasure as much as men have. They are as powerful as men. They misuse sex as much as men do. There is equality! In all freaking aspects! Men are cheated on, women are cheated on too.
But how many states, cities in India are developed with this metrosexual crowd where equality rules daily lives? Do you want me to give you statistics, or do you already know? We all know it, right? Where one woman is powerful, there are 1000 who are still oppressed.
Adultery, cheating, breaking someone’s trust is morally wrong. That has nothing to do with sex. People cheat others in so many other ways, then why SEX is laid as a basis in deciding the morality of a person.
A free society, in true terms, is when sex is considered as freedom. Without having any judgments or any preconceived notions about how a marriage should work in a society!
The reaction to the video, to that one line shows how stuck up we are. It shows how our life revolves around marriage, sex, fidelity, and bondage! This is India for you. This is the youth. This is the GEN-NEXT! As you sow, so shall you reap! No preaching here. Just facts!
Take some time out and think…. If there was no moral policing, or any rights or wrong in the society, how would you choose to live? Try and break the shackles of your mind and push your thoughts and understand what you are capable of. Think…because no one will hear you, or judge you.. But think inside your head and understand.. is there any right or wrong, really?
And when you have overcome that barrier, if at all, go back and read that sentence again.. And have your own conclusions.
Because there is nothing we can force on anyone else. The only thing that WE can control, which even God can’t, is the will power – rightly called the Power of #choice!
The 12th Edition of Oh! Womania is here. We have this edition in two parts. A general edition, to go with the season and a Throwback edition which will come up tomorrow, with a collection of our favorite articles from previous 11 Editions.
As we take a leap into the next league of Oh! Womania writing, we would like to take a moment and thank you being so supportive.
We look forward to many more days of expressions!
You know you can join us in this creative pursuit!! 🙂
Here’s the link to the new edition: Edition12_Oh!Womania
Love and light!
~Editors
A mother she was.
Way before she got married. Or reached the age where she could bear a child.
Every woman is a mother.
In some way or the other.
She needn’t have a baby in her womb.
She needn’t go through labor to prove her motherhood
She needn’t marry.
Or have a man to help her exist as a mother.
Every woman is a mother.
When she was 20 she got married.
Hidden from all the worldly atrocities,
Safe in a haven,
protected from all the male dominance..
She was facing male dominance within the four walls
But she was apparently “taken care of”.
Years passed. Not 1, but 2, 3, 4, 5.
She turned 25.
There was no sign of a child.
The man was impotent or was it the woman?
No one knew.
Restless minds started questioning.
The society started worrying about carrying forward the lineage
And the family members were in a state of eternal agony.
NO CHILD!
The woman cannot become a mother.
What a shame!
The purpose of being a woman is not fulfilled until you carry a child in the womb.
The woman is not a woman anymore.
She is just a piece of existence.
She is not allowed to do anything.
Work, play, enjoy.. nothing.
She is supposed to be in the perpetual state of melancholy.
For not having been able to bear a child.
But what makes her stop from being a mother?
NOTHING!
There are millions of little souls… looking for that care!
Who do not have a home.
Who are nothing but full of love.
Love – that will fill your heart,
your spirit..
and make you soar high
until you touch those acmes of happiness and joy
of only being a mother.
Being a mother doesn’t mean you should have a womb
it only means you should have a heart!
Every woman is a mother!
Its summer time…. Time for cool linens and hot pants. 😉
thefashiontag.com
![Deepika_Padukone_White_Designer_Salwar_Kameez_(5)_thumb[1]](https://ohwomania.files.wordpress.com/2015/03/deepika_padukone_white_designer_salwar_kameez_5_thumb1.jpg)
…Movement!! Chipko Movement! 🙂
How interesting, right!
Imagine the trend this female – Amrita Devi, created back in 1730 AD, when she protested against a King’s man who wanted to cut a tree. In Khejri village, over 300 Bishnois were killed while protecting the green Khejri that is considered sacred by the community.
A modern Chipko movement was led by Gaura Devi who, with 27 other women, confronted the loggers and resisted them from cutting the trees. They hugged the trees to stop from being felled. They kept an all-night vigil, guarding the trees until the loggers relented.
Gaura Devi
Eventually more people joined and helped these women save the Garhwal Himalaya region of Uttarakhand which was fast depleting because of deforestation.
Pic Source: http://www.apnauttarakhand.com
Imagine, how a simple act of satyagraha and non-violence can lead to huge movements and revolutions.
If you go on a summer vacation to the Himalayas and are awestruck by the green pastures, do not forget, someone fought for it!
Pic Source: http://www.campinginrishikesh.com
True, the summers are getting worse with every passing year, and we always complain the increasing temperature and pollution. Instead, if we conserve trees and plant more saplings, we can ensure the climate does not become worse. It’s time for some Damage Control!!
Chipko Movement, could be one way! But to begin with, lets hug whatever we can, with all love!
Preserve Nature!
And…. Eco-Feminism.. More on that..soon! 🙂
If you want to plant trees or gift them to your loved ones, click here : http://www.grow-trees.com/gift.aspx
***
PS : Wikipedia Info: The landmark event in this struggle took place on March 26, 1974, when a group of peasant women in Reni village, Hemwalghati, in Chamoli district, Uttarakhand, India, acted to prevent the cutting of trees and reclaim their traditional forest rights, which were threatened by the contractors assigned by the state Forest Department. Their actions inspired hundreds of such actions at the grassroots level throughout the region. By the 1980s the movement had spread throughout India and led to the formulation of people-sensitive forest policies, which put a stop to the open felling of trees in regions as far as the Vindhyas and the Western Ghats.
Many famous writers and philosophers have quoted that one shouldn’t fall in love, one should rise in love. I, for the longest time did not understand the meaning of it. How can one rise in love? I had fallen in love with her irrevocably. I did not know anything else apart from loving her. I say “fallen” in love,
because I indeed I fell – BAD!
They all have different definitions of love. Love at first sight and all. How can one fall in love with someone at the first sight? I did not know until I experienced it. Her limped advances, with a crutch in one hand and other resting on the door, swept me off my feet. She was one of the most amazing experiences I ever had. Was she pretty? Yes, most definitely. She still is. But I did not fall for
her beauty. Her hair did something though. She hugged me as we met for the very first time. I fell for that warmth. She was that missing piece in my life and finally I felt that everything was in place.
Like everyone, I had a concept of love too. Romantic outings, writing letters, talking on phone for hours together, singing song, buying things for your beloved, listening to stories, celebrating occasions, posing for cozy pictures, updating on Facebook, making collages and proving how amazing our love was. We were everything that ever defined perfection.
But then, love is not all this. I had fallen in love, quite literally too. So had she. We became each other’s weaknesses. We would yell at each other, take the liberty of demanding each other’s time. She would dictate me and I would dictate her. Expectations started soaring high and that slowly led to suffocation and frustration. I couldn’t bear the fact that she could have another life and nor could she tolerate that I could be friends with different people. We had indeed fallen. Fallen deep in the dungeon from where there was no coming back. We both lied there, in dirt, in crap, helpless, looking at the world crumble down on us, our love disappearing into thin air. Finally we decided to let go of each other. We broke up.
It was a mess. A big big mess. You are hit the hardest when you are at your weakest. There are times when every bad thing out there happens to you, and you blame it on love. Blame it on “Falling” in love. The scores in the college get affected, the performance at work deteriorates, and your life which was centered around one person, suddenly becomes pointless. For many, this is usually the end of life, an existence. But for me, it was a phase where I decided to rise up. I had become this horrible person. I hated myself. I never hated anyone in my life before, I never yelled, my life was always about cordial relationships and happiness. But here I was struggling to find that good side of my identity. I had become this person that I started to hate. Why wouldn’t anyone else hate me too?
Slowly, I practiced forgiveness. I forgave myself to begin with. When I forgave, I could start loving myself. I had never done that before. I had no love for myself, no respect. I developed that. I started living for my own dreams and realized the importance of having a life centered around my progress
and happiness.
Slowly, everything started falling in place. I became patient. I could think of the better times I had with her and reminisce. I appreciated the good things she did to me. I became a better person. There was no bitterness anymore. Some people perpetually live in that bitterness, I am glad I could come out if it. I had given myself a chance. All for rediscovering that exact feeling of warmth that I felt when I first saw her.
I was capable of love, in feeling and action, without having an object. She was out of my life, but I could still feel immense love, for even my worst enemies. Something had changed. And I was this whole new person. I had risen in love! She called me last night after 7 long months. Her voice had the same radiance like it did the first time I met her.
Falling in love is not an option again. Rising is!
Love lies in the deepest stashes of our heart, we just need to wiggle it and allow it to surface. It’s always beautiful.
On the special day of love, here is out special edition..
Love is a very simple thing. The interpretations are many..
Let’s delve in a few that we could zero down on!!
Click here PDF.. Oh! Womania_Edition11_Love
Happy Reading!
Love and Light 🙂
For some one who’s travelling in Rajdhani for the first time!
Subbu: Good mrng.. How’s the journey. Going..
Mannu: Good Morning!! filal main rajdhani ki damad hun, so khatirdari main koi kami nai
Subbu: Tu khatirdaari pe apna gender kyu badalri…
Mannu : kyuki…. khatirdaari toh damad ki hoti hai na!
Tum badlo, Junta badlegi!
New year, New feel.. New pages and a fresh new blank slate!
We are here with Edition 10 of Oh! Womania. As the transition from 2014 to 2015 catches pace, our dreams and aims soar high too!
Click here to read Edition 10 of Oh! Womania –> Edition10_Oh!Womania
To read a Low Resolution Version, click here –> Edition10_Oh!Womania_Lores
Help Spread the love!
So we took a small little break and basked in the glory of the wonderful winters!
Finally we are here with our 9th Edition, which brings you some light and nice reads…
Enjoy the lovely weather with this edition on Sweet November!
Click here to get your PDF — Edition_9_Sweet_November
Help Spread the Love..
~ Editors! 🙂
So we split this October!
We decided to have debates and arguments about the good old Education system. We had a great time doing this issue. We realized, we got through our schooling days without questioning at all. And now we have so many questions.
Osho has rightly said “We have failed, up to now, in creating a society which needs human beings, simple human beings. The society is interested that you should be more skillful, more productive, and less creative.’ So how could Education help in this? Isn’t it true, what Osho says?
Does Education make or mar us?
Read more to know more.. And let us know what you think of it..
Here’s the link to our latest edition Oh!Womania_Edition8_Oct’14
Right click and Save link as PDF for better viewing…
Love and Light,
~Editors!
“You will find as you grow older that the first thing needful to make the world a tolerable place to live in is to recognize the inevitable selfishness of humanity. You demand unselfishness from others, which is a preposterous claim that they should sacrifice their desires to yours. Why should they? When you are reconciled to the fact that each is for himself in the world you will ask less from your fellows. They will not disappoint you, and you will look upon them more charitably. Men seek but one thing in life — their pleasure.”
The next lap of Oh! Womania is all about social issues. We have changed everything, this edition onwards! What exactly, you may ask? Click on the links to know more!
Right click and Save Link As pdf for better viewing.
“We do not write because we want to; we write because we have to.”
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Men…. the all mighty, all powerful, all muscles…. They can’t afford to cry, its weak to cry. The can’t be seen as meek, weak cry babies….
But men are emotional fools too… they cry too, sometimes in solitude, sometimes in public, sometimes in front of their loved ones. For loss, or hurt, or stress or heartbreak, they do cry. Holding their tears isn’t the strongest of things to do, but many do stop that valve.
My uncle cried, when I topped my university, when I got my first job, when I rejected a boy he cried and sobbed saying I deserved much better. He cried when I said a yes to a guy, when I got engaged, when I got married (obviously), whenever I call him from my home far away now.
My cousin cried for me, when I got hurt, when I was sad, when I was too happy, when I achieved something big we both cried.
My friend cries when he sees a dying pup on the road, when he watches the news of innocent people been bombed and killed, when hospitals and schools are burnt down for the selfish interest of a few.
Men cry. Yes. They do. And it is not an act of weakness, but that of strength to be able to express so openly, in the ways which is apparently the prerogative of only the females.
The other day, I was sitting in a coffee shop sipping coffee, all alone and working on an assignment, when I heard a few sobs. I wanted to instantly turn around and see who it was. But I did not. I sensed that the person was sitting all alone and if I turned back and gave a look, it would be embarrassing for him. Yes, it was a guy, 24-25 years old. Dressed in smart denims and a Tommy Hilfiger T-shirt, that I instantly noticed when he entered the shop. He seemed to be from a decent background. I could’ve judged him to be a spoilt guy from an uptown colony, driving rich cars and spending money in coffee and beer joints. But he sobbed there, sitting alone, and I was intrigued. I wouldn’t lie, but I eavesdropped. I got myself into a very comfortable position where I could hear clearly what he was doing. Sipping coffee, playing with his keys, typing on his blackberry, sobbing uncontrollably.
He got a call from someone and he started talking. He held his shaky voice and heard out what the other person was saying. With intermittent ‘hmms’ and ‘haas’, I realized someone was consoling him.
He then said, “But she suffered a lot. Cancer took everything from her. I will miss her. I don’t know what a life without mom is”
I sat there startled. I heard more.
“..and Neha’s decision was shocking. She decided to get married to that guy, after all these years…”, he went on.
“How long is 10 years, dude…10 years…”, he cried.
This guy, sitting on the next table, had lost two women. His mom to cancer, and his girlfriend to circumstances.
“I wish I could stop crying. I don’t want to cry in front of dad”, he went on.
“He is too weak to handle my weaknesses”, he said.
“I’ll see you soon, buddy. Come home. I just need to be with my folks for a while. It’s too hard.”
And he cried more.
We women, barely cry alone. We usually have a company. And that company is not for solace, but it is for collective sobbing. It is liberating, you know. But for guys, it is not a good thing to be able to cry.
Imagine the tears of joy, in the eyes of a father who just saw his newborn. Tears of pride, when his kid achieves a feat. Tears of satisfaction, when the daughter holds the father and ensures he will always be loved. Tears of gratitude, when his old mother cooks his favorite food. Tears of love, when the beloved goes out of the way and does something. Tears of pain and agony of losing a loved one. Tears of helplessness when you see things that are beyond your control. Tears while watching an emotional movie. Tears when the dialogues of “If Only” shatter the core. Tears when you hear a song that relates his exact state of mind.
We know, the tears have meaning and we know the tears are irrepressible at times. Those are the times, women end up respecting men even more. Because it’s nature to be able to express through tears.
I wanted to hold that guy close, and tell him that everything’s gonna be alright. I wanted to give him that cursory hug, and tell him that human pain is not different and we all feel it at some point in time.
But as a woman, I was scared to do that bit. The fear of being judged held me back from expressing.
The man, who sat there, did what the society didn’t approve of – he cried. In private. Alone. Without showing others that he could cry. And I… I left the coffee shop like an inconsiderate woman, who cares a damn about a person who is crying. I left that place like I cared a damn about a crying person. Doesn’t he deserve to weep and grieve openly. Can’t I as a human console another human being?
We are a result of the conditioning of the society. Now you tell me, is it fair? What would you do?
***
PS: To read the entire edition of Oh! Womania click here — >Edition_6_Aug_2014
A man’s brain diverges enormously over his life span, which contradicts the idea that they are single-mindedly sex addicts, and that one thought goes on in the mainstream of their consciousness. These are the things, apart from sex, that go on in a man’s mind, which women should know!
Adult men have stronger emotional reactions to situations, until they are more aware of their feelings. A psychological study revealed that when the facial expressions of a group of men were monitored, they noticed, that men expressed more dramatically and emotionally to situations as compared to women. Once they understand and become aware of their feelings and make a conscious effort, they tend to put on a poker face. They believe that expressing emotionally is an unmanly trait, and they sober down their emotions by fighting their natural response to a situation. Rather, they just make it a point to react with a neutral expression. The fact being, they feel things more emotionally than women.
Also, infant boys are emotionally more reactive and expressive than girls, the study suggested.
Men do not have a tendency of reaching out, as compared to women, which shows that in older ages, men tend to be lonely than seek help. Living with women is perhaps helpful, as stable relationships ensure a healthy and long life, due to decreased anxiety. Loneliness takes a toll on everyone’s health and brain, but women tend to handle it better as compared to men.
Men may not be very empathetic while dealing with a problem, because they are more focused on fixing that problem, than empathizing with the situation. They prefer spending more time on fixing the problem than showing solidarity in feeling.
Testosterone is the hormone of libido. Men have this libido six times as forceful as compared to women. That is the reason why, men ogle at women, and forget her once she is out of their visual field.
Possessiveness is supposedly a trait that women possess. They may have swings of this trait, but men are supposed to turn violent when they see someone attacking their territory. They are very possessive about loved ones and family in their life.
Men appreciate when there is a well-defined hierarchy and chain of command. Be it at work or home, once their position is clear, they are able to work better and keep their aggression in check.
When men play with their kids, they tend to instill qualities like spontaneity, confidence and pragmatism. Good dads make sure they optimize the chance that their offspring survives and thrives well by providing them with all necessities and quality exposure.
“Women want to settle down, and men want to sow their wild oats forever” goes a famous saying. But this one of the biggest misconceptions that exists. Men are termed to be infidel, after getting married, but infidelities are most likely to occur before men hit 30, a study says. Of course, some men have a harder time with commitment than others, but they hanker for a union and marital bliss too.
***
To read the entire edition of Oh! Womania click here — >Edition_6_Aug_2014
In the recent flick, KICK, Sallu wears a blue embroidered kurti, I almost instantly remembered my same blue colored kurti, which I loved to wear, almost a decade back. Some good memories and a good story to tell my friends.
Today, I not only love to raid my sister’s wardrobe but I check out my brother’s wardrobe too. The new trends in guys of cool colors and varied necks from cowl, to V, to layered, give their tees more or less a unisex look. The low necks tees and cleavages are now no more a women’s territory alone! Gone are the days when guys’ clothes comprised of boring collared and round neck black, white and grey tees. Today even the slippers have fantastic array of colors… who remembers the good old, blue and white bathroom slippers?
Slippers are the new big thing…. exorbitantly priced, funky colors and wearable outdoors! That’s a plus! Even the bags which were earlier sexist, back sack being for guys and slings for girls have been replaced by unisex slings, backpacks, totes and so many new types – all colorful, busy with retro prints or having some fundoo quotes.
The pinks and blues are for all now. The ear studs, tattoos, rings, bangles(ironically), chain, bracelets…etc have all seen a considerable rise in the men’s segment.
Parlors and saloons are no more separate entities but a huge air-conditioned grooming studio…. for all. Men and women both get waxed, both thread their brows, both get facials, both get massages. So why two different words should be stuffed in our dictionary?
Unisex is the new big thing in marketing and merchandise. Be it stores of hims and hers replaced by Uni, or perfumes and deos being manufactured for all, tee shirts, bags, slippers…. even the shoes called LOAFERS are unisex… (I always thought loafer is a guy thing 😉 )
Fashion gurus and the entire fashion industry is gradually giving up on the sexist philosophy as far as it can and making more and more things unisex. The merchandise is turning unisex with accessories, makeup, creams, soaps, shampoos, etc. So also the clothing industry is visibly swapping and inter-mingling the eternally feminist print of kalamkari and bagh on kurtas and kurtis for men. Well, for that matter, kurtis are another unisex piece of clothing to hit the Indian and international world of fashion.
While I laughed uncontrollably when Joey from FRIENDS sitcom advertised a lipstick from Japan, I never really gave it a thought that almost all actors do wear a lot of makeup which includes lipstick. It’s nothing to hide or be ashamed of, as men too, work hard to look good for the dame. Maybe this is the reason of increasing appointments of the groom along with the bride in parlors for makeup! They have always colored their grays, but now we all go in for the different highlights to accentuate our looks; men and women both.
While women have always loved to get into her man’s oversized clothes, today’s men are gradually taking a step and getting into women’s fashion and how. They might not really fit into your fitted tees but at least today’s metrosexual men dare to buy prints and patterns very similar to feminine prints, without a hint of sexist doubt or shying away.
There’s an allusion of welcome change, of acceptance, of de-conditioning…. the set paradigms of pinks and blues, hims and hers, chauvinism and feminism are gradually eroding and fading away.
It’s good that the inhibitions are being kept at bay, because I personally feel that the world of handprints, weaves, chiffons, cottons and colors should be open to all, alike!
***
Read the Entire 6th Edition of Oh! Womania here–> Edition_6_Aug_2014
Men are from Mars, they say… Mars the God of war, passion, and sexuality.
Sex! The urge! And all the tags that come along with it. Men are unnecessarily blamed for thinking about sex all the time. How can one curb the naturally programmed brain? There is a word in the English dictionary for a woman who has excessive or obsessive desire for sex. Whereas, there is no such word for men, because they always have a desire for sex. It is said, that a man thinks about sex every 7 seconds.
Let’s dig deeper.
The power of reproduction lies in the hands of men. Where men can create 100 babies in a year with 100 women, a woman can create on 1 baby, even if she has encounters with 100 men. When god created man, he knew that he would go forth and procreate. Hence men have this urge of procreating, multiplying their clan, whereas women are more interested in the wellbeing and spiritual elevation of the clan. Hence she undergoes the pain of the child birth and all the accouterments, whereas men are always looking forwardto multiplying their breed. This is the basic, uncivilized instinct. So, no matter how much we ask men to keep sex off their minds, it would be asking them to do something they are not programmed to do. This explains their sexual urge and inability to be more understanding towards the fairer sex.
This has been a result of years of scientific studies in various labs across the globe. Dichotomizing the mentality of men and women is the most impossible task, because there is nosolid explanation behind the way they function. The closest explanations come when we look into the evolutionary theory and realize that, a male behaves just the way he is programmed to, and a woman, with her sensitivity and depth of understanding, maintains the harmony of all the living beings around her. Each of them isperforming their own roles. They did it very diligently until a few centuries ago, until the fight for power erupted.
Men started tagging themselves as the superior ones, showing the women their place by exploiting them, and demeaning their social status. After years of putting up with thepressure, the female clan has retaliated, and called out a war. They want to be equal to the men. Even when it comes to sex.
Technically, women have very deep sexual desires and they scrutinize very carefully before selecting a partner to satisfy themselves. The selection of man is hence based on a variety of things, starting from looks, to scent,intelligence and sense of humor. They make very sure that the procreation is a result of a great communion and not just casual encounters.
But the women, who go about casually having flings and sexual encounters, with a great appetite of physical satisfaction are rightly labelled nymphomaniacs. They have this sense of proving a point to themselves and men that sex is not just a man’s domain. Since time immemorial, women were the ones who had an upper hand in the bedroom games.
Further, in order to prove their prowess over the women who are fast catching up on the progress that men are making, these men tend to exhibit their powers in other ways and that results in many social crimes.
There is more to these crimes than just the sexual urge that men have. Human beings are bestowed with an incredible thing called the “Mind” which when regulated guides us in whatever direction we intend it to. If there is no control over it, then we see crimes happening around us. It is not correct to blame the entire clan of men for the delinquencies that keep happening in the society. There is another aspect to this whole picture, which has more to do with the societal upbringing.
All said and done, the sooner we accept that men are, and will always be the way they were supposed to be, and then perhaps we could concentrate on other means of solving the more persistent problems of the society. Because, we cannot change the way men are programmed. We can surely change, the way they use their thoughts, and where it is directed. Same applies to women.
***
Read the entire 6th Edition of Oh!Womania here –> Edition_6_Aug_2014
Career and Home Management
Chauvinism: Men are supposed to earn money and food which is a superior job than women cooking food and feeding the family.
Equality: Men and women can earn, can bring up families together, can both cook in turns and live peacefully by doing all tasks in understanding and distributing work, tasks and finances between them.
Extreme Feminism: Why should women cook food, when they can earn money for the family?
Acceptance: Men are programmed to go out and hunt, as in older days, where physical brawn was more important than mental skills. Now the modes of earning are not restricted to just strength of body or muscles, hence women are catching up with the “earning money” part. Hence, it is the prerogative of every human being, be it either man or woman, to accept that one will live righteously, earn, feed and “respect” each other, irrespective of the difference between the two. Because, men can never be equal to women, and vice versa is true too.
Bearing and bringing up children
Chauvinism: Sperms are the biggest gift of God to a man, and hence a male child is a blessing more than a female child, as a woman is impregnated by a man.
Equality: Women give birth to children, and men take care of their upbringing. They distribute responsibilities, they stay up in the night to watch the child in turns, and they both equally attend to the needs of the child.
Extreme Feminism: Why should women undergo the pain of child delivery, and be blamed if it is a girl? Men are responsible for the Y chromosome which determines sex of the child. Men should take care of the children, as the duty of the woman is not to spend her entire life behind a child.
Acceptance: A man and a woman are endowed with different capabilities. Carrying a child in her womb for 9 months is the most excruciating task for a woman, and no matter how hard a man may try, he will not be able to even empathize what is to carrya child. Women are given this amazing strength and trust of bearing and bringing up a child, because she can. Men are emotionally not strong enough, not sensitive enough to understand what a child needs when it cries. They are better at other things. Hence, a mother always has the responsibility of bearing and bringing up a child, without question. Because that is how it was intended. Men have a job of supporting the family, when the mother is busy taking care of the child. This is how it was supposed to be. There is no point in comparing the roles of mother and father, because they are not comparable.
Sex
Chauvinism: I will make my woman satisfy me, whenever I want. That is what women are for.
Equality: Men and women experience pleasures in different ways and capacities. So they should take turns in satisfying each other, and make sure this act is not just one way.
Extreme Feminism: Women have needs, and they can demand it whenever they want or reject a man’s desire, if she is tired and exhausted. Women are not objects of sex.
Acceptance: The only basic thing that differentiates a man from a woman is the reproductive organ. The response to the act of sex for both of them is completely different. Where procreation is not a priority and pleasure is, in that case, one or the other remains unsatisfied many times, and it has nothing to do with ego. Sometimes you see the beauty of human life; sometimes you make someone see it. But when the act is for procreation, then pleasure is a byproduct. There has to be an acceptance of this fact, because again, the superiority is not the question, the involvement is.
Relationships and society
Chauvinism: I am the man, and I run the family, so it runs after my name!
Equality: Both distribute responsibilities, name, fame, status and recognition equally and live in mutual peace and understanding.
Extreme Feminism: I refuse to follow the rules the man has made. I make my own rules. I won’t change my name after marriage.
Acceptance: Some things are beyond tags or labels. Women can never match men and vice versa is true too. The fight for equality or fight for proving that men are superior to women or women are superior to men is baseless. There were two genders made, with an intention that there’d be two opposite poles. Unequal. Different. In the process of proving a point, the men have been suppressing women, and women have lately started retaliating against anything that demeans the status of men. A housewife was a proud lady, back in ancient times, when she had the greatest responsibility of molding the characters of her children; until it was deemed socially low or derogatory. Hence women started fighting back, and the unnecessary fight for equality erupted. Men and women can never be equal. This has to be accepted.
***
Many times, men feel that women are fighting too hard for equality. Women feel that they are being deprived of opportunities. The bridge is widening and it has become so wide, that now there are two parties, hence there is outright Chauvinism and Extreme Feminism nowadays. There would soon be a time, when men would be the oppressed class with women looking down on men. This fight is about nothing else but dignity.
Every human being deserves a chance to everything that is out there and available. There is nothing that any human being should be deprived of because he/she is a man or a woman. The day we forget that we have to become “equals”, and just learn to respect each other, whatever we are, with whatever capacities we have, the world will be wonderful place to live in, without these unnecessary tags of Chauvinism and Feminism. Let’s replace those two words by Chivalry and Dignity.
Women, Men, are you listening?
We are back with the 6th Edition of Oh! Womania..
““I believe that all men are just overgrown boys with deep problems communicating”, said Neil Gaiman
How true is that? We tried to dig deeper into the male psychology in this edition.
Right click and save link as pdf for better viewing.. here’s the link –>Oh!Womania_Edition_6_Aug_2014
The low resolution version of the edition at the link –>Oh!Womania_Edition_6_Aug_2014_Lores
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I had to grow to love my body. I did not have a good self-image at first. Finally it occurred to me, I’m either going to love me or hate me. And I chose to love myself. Then everything kind of sprung from there. Things that I thought weren’t attractive became sexy. Confidence makes you sexy.
Queen Latifah
We all have so many doubts about our self and there are times when we hate certain traits or things about us. Is it fair? Because no matter what ever the trend may be…
You Are Beautiful!
Read our next edition here –> Oh_Womania_Edition_5_July_2014
For a Low Resolution version of the Edition, click here Oh_Womania_Edition_5_Jul_14_Lores
Happy Reading..
Write to us at ohwomania@gmail.com
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Do you know Peter Parker? Do you know his resume? Do you know who he is? How the society sees him? He is an orphan living with his uncle and aunt. He is inquisitive about science and technology. He works as a Photographer and has a girlfriend. He lives his life as a normal human being but then… he is something that no one knows, but everyone knows. He has an alter Ego.. He hides his identity behind this social tag of Peter Parker. In reality he is Spiderman! We all love him, don’t we? Why does he need another identity?
You want me to talk about Bruce Wayne? A wealthy business man, who serves and saves the city of Gotham from evil invasions as Batman? He dons this identity of Wayne in the society so that no one questions his powers and things he does when calamity strikes.
I have a power too. I am a normal guy, call me anything. Any name. But when the city sleeps I wake up as a Bharatnatyam dancer.
Weird eh? But if you see me in action, you’ll know. I love dance. I teach my students how to express in movements. I feel powerful when I wear the Ghunghroos around my ankles. I feel potent when the music stirs my soul and I dance to the rhythm of the beats. I am a superhero to many, who seek salvation through dance. I have children who look up to me. I am their hero.
But I am still a recluse.
I work as a Doctor in one of the famous hospitals in one of the metropolitan city. I have money, a car that most of the people might envy, and a girlfriend, who takes me the way I am. I go to the gym and there are people who are jealous of my physique. I have a perfect life. But I do not dance openly.
My masculine build up is often misconstrued as stiff, taut and macho. They could never accept me in a Bharatnatyam get-up, dancing on Carnatic music and beats of Mrudangam. They would categorize me as someone whom I am not. I fear to come out of my closet. The selected few who know me and dance with me, understand what it is to nurture a passion.
With growing dance shows, competitions and participations of people from all walks of life and statures, there is a little confidence that is building. I want to be confident to take up dance openly. Not be judged for doing something that is not what “a man is supposed to do”, or express in a different dance form. I want to be another Birju Maharaj, or Kamal Hasan, if that is possible.
But they are all TV personalities. They have overcome the stage of judgments and mockery. I am yet to reach that stage.
Someday I would like to perform for my colleagues and patients and tell them that there may be different ways of seeking peace and calm as the psychiatrist would vouch. But for me, I want to find it through dancing.
I want to dance my way to salvation and not be judged about it. I am no Michael Jackson. I am just ME!
“Those who dance are considered insane by those who cannot hear the music.”
***
To read the entire Edition click here –> https://ohwomania.files.wordpress.com/2014/06/ohwomania_edition_4_june14.pdf
We are here with our 4th Edition – “Coming out of the closet – In search of ME”
This edition is about living the life as “One Personality” without having to put up a mask to survive in the society. It is about banishing those closets where we hide when we are ashamed of something. It’s about accepting who we really are.
We have tried a little something new with look and content, thanks to the amazing feedback from our lovely readers.
Thanks for all the support and love.
Hope you like this edition too…
Help spread the love.. Here’s the link –> Oh!Womania_Edition_4_June’14
I abuse! Yes. I do not demean any man or woman when I use my profanities. I am very reserved and find it utterly humiliating to address the cuss to someone particularly. Most of my abuses only sound like this..
“She effing came late and expected me to wait for her! Damn it!”
“Scheisse! I am effed up!”
So where is the cuss here, some might ask. I used the F word, without using it. I use the S word without directly pronouncing it. I use the German word for it. But it satisfies my urge of letting out my frustration. Abusing is liberating. Trust me. And I don’t say I want to preach it, but for people like me, who require therapy for controlling my anger and directing my weaknesses in a positive way, need outlets and swearing is one of them. I feel, sometimes it is better than hurting someone or using spiteful words.
I solely use them in my sentences as fillers, and only out of anger. I think it is totally justified.
When there are no means of expressions, cussing helps. But need it be gory? No! Not at all. I started swearing when I was a little kid and I used words which made no sense to me. With time, I understood the meaning, and decided to find an alternate way. Speaking politely and without malice is something I am incapable of. I require a lot of push and self-control to practice quietude and composure.
9 out of 10 times, I will cuss. And I have, through all these years, made it a point to use words which offend no one. They are mere means of expressing something which carries frustration. I hardly use them as a daily parlance. I know many who do. I know many who know the meanings of the horrible words, and still use it..
I happened to speak to a friend of mine, who stayed in Mumbai for the longest time before moving to Delhi. She said, a girl is only respected if she can cuss like a man. I couldn’t believe it. There are guys who respect women who can get on the street and say a few “bho***di k*” and “ch***y*” to other men.
My friend explained how it was extremely necessary to know these words, in case you got yourself into a spat with the Rickshaw wallas or Taxi drivers in Mumbai. After moving to Delhi, she did not face much problem adjusting to the culture there.
Because, supposedly, even ‘chicken’ is supposed to taste ‘sisterf**kingly’ awesome. That’s the exact adjective she used, I remember.
I was always told not to cuss so much, until I closely observed this friend of mine and her gang of girls. They are unremorseful in abusing men too with words which cuss their sisters and mothers. And to top it, all this, only for pleasure. None of them seemed to have any frustration problems that I did. I would always introspect and conclude that perhaps I needed therapy to channelize my frustration on road, or examination hall, or in local trains, until I saw the other side.
I eventually felt better about my standard of profanity. It wasn’t ugly at all.
It was just compulsive.
I would want to find better ways of taking out my anger and frustration, but I don’t want to be a saint. I am human and I shall cuss, without intending any harm to my clan.
I am a woman, after all!
1.Do you normally cuss or swear?
a) Yess
b) *ahem* no!
c) Sometimes
d) I never use bad words
2.Which of these shows is the best for you
a) Breaking Bad
b) Friends
c) How I met your mother
d) Tom and Jerry
3.How do you feel most of the times?
a) Angry
b) Bored
c) Sad
d) Happy
4.What is your favorite color?
a) Red
b) Purple
c) Green
d) Yellow
4. Do you get upset or mad often?
a) All the time
b) Sometimes
c) Not really
d) Never
6. Your sibling breaks your most cherished bike, what do you do?
a) Scream helplessly
b) Cry
c) Hit your sibling
d) Go to your room and calm down
7. When someone does something weird and it makes no sense to you, you are like….
a) Yell and say “what the heck are you doing”
b) *what in the world!!*
c) *huh??!!*
d) *stare at them*
8. When you are watching a cricket match, India vs Pakistan and India loses what do you do?
a) Abuse the teams
b) Feel irritated and smack something hard
c) Vow never to watch cricket again
d) Silently change channel and enjoy MTV Roadies
9. Do you know the meanings of the cuss words you use?
a) Yes, I know all the meanings and I mean it
b) I know a few of them, but I use it because everyone else does
c) Cuss words are mere sentence enhancers. They have no meaning, I use them for fun
d) I don’t know the meanings and I don’t use them at all
10. What is your favorite type of music?
a) Anything rock and loud to express how I feel
b) The usual popular stuff
c) Tec
d) Instrumental, classical music
A’s : If you have got more A’s, that means that you are a compulsive Swear-er. You use cuss words as often as breathing. Your expressions are only edified by the cuss words you use, without them, your statements and sentences are incomplete. You feel the dire need to communicate using cuss words and you strongly believe that without them, you wouldn’t be able to put across your point, be it love or hate. You speak gibberish, most of the times!
B’s: If you have more B’s that means, you use cuss words in 75 percent of your daily parlance and feel that they are best used with your own people. You are not a public abuser and you will not go about cussing the autowallahs of Mumbai, instead you would cuss your own people out of love and join in a collective, social cussing.
C’s : You cuss only when you need to. You have other means of conveying your thoughts and expressions and you do them eloquently. You may use the cuss words for gaining a societal recognition for being cool and trendy, but you don’t bring it into daily usage. You are a decent person!
D’s: You have hardly ever used the F, the A, and B, C words in English and Hindi. You are usually quiet and silent and do not feel the need to express in extremes. You have always believed that there is a way to get things done and abusing or cussing is definitely not one of them. You are an angel, because when you speak, you inspire!
***
To read Edition 3 of Ohwomania Click here –> Oh! Womania Edition 3 May 2014
My parents were the most amazing parents ever, I always believed. There were times when I would read articles about female feticide and would feel terrible about the girls who were never born. On one hand where other parents were dying to have a son, my parents struggled to have a girl. Despite my mother’s ill health, they kept taking chances until they had me, after 4 sons. That’s perhaps the reason I feel blessed. My mother passed away when I was a little kid. With four boys and a little girl, my father took immense efforts to bring us up. My eldest brother was 10 years older to me. I was always loved and taken care of, like a princess…..
…..Until I grew up to understand things in details. More details!
Growing up in a typical North-Indian household is a challenge in itself, especially when the girls are educated. The society doesn’t digest the fact that girls are being treated the way I was. I was always pushed to pursue education. No sooner I turned 21, than I had my own car. My eldest brother gave me all luxuries before I could even ask for it. I remember my first driving lesson. That lesson, did not just teach me how to maneuver the steering, but taught me a lot of other important things too.
“Rajji, take right, and honk, ok?”, Roshan Bhai directed while giving me one of the final driving lessons.
“Bhai, koi hoga toh hi I’ll honk”, I reasoned.
“Tu bas horn maar”, he ordered.
I did so, as I realized the right turn was tricky. There was a tempo standing right on the verge and I was about to hit it.
The tempo driver came running out of the shop and stopped our car, and yelled, “Bh*****d, gaadi ladki se chalvara hai, mera nuksaan karvayega, H***mk**r??”
I looked at my brother, as if one trigger was all he ever needed, he retaliated,
“M*******d, Gaadi khadi karne ki jagah hai ye koi?”
And then the fight began. After a few exchange of banters, we moved on, realizing there would be morons on the road and we just have to be careful while driving. If time came, one should be brave enough to fight it out, just like we had, the other day. Roshan Bhai gave me lessons and I took more than he intended to give.
I realized, ‘Bh*****d’ was something you needed at the tip of your tongue while driving just like one needed to keep an alert foot on the clutch. So that lesson stayed for the longest time…
…..Until I understood its meaning. I decided, if ever, a similar situation came, instead of sister, I would intend the cuss to the brother. I thought, being a girl, I could use it in this way, by using a “man-slang” instead of “female-slang” like the men used. So I was set for any such encounter, but for the longest time it never came.
The story doesn’t end there. I had never heard my brothers argue. They always did it at work, if needed. They never created a scene where their wives and sister lived. I thought my family was the most cultured family, ever. And then I happened to be a part of one of the regular spats my brothers had.
Like *BC was a verb, or an adjective, or an adverb, I don’t know what, they used it effortlessly in every other sentence. The words became a rattle and all I kept hearing was “Bh*****d, Bh*****d, Bh*****d, Bh*****d”.
Trust me, there was no violence, but I felt thoroughly violated. They kept calling each other this one ugly word, and I was standing right there, their sister! All my brothers, abusing, accusing each other of f****ng me. Incest… only that, it wasn’t with consent. Rape was it, then? Or what? What did that word imply? The only sister, they claimed to love so much!
Like men have this crazy sexual urge that they may end up sleeping with their own sister? I looked at them with rage. A rage that could kill all of them, and I kept looking until they realized the meaning of what they were saying.
The mother was dead! They could have escalated their expressions to the mother too. Fortunately, they didn’t.
They were abusing each other, I also remember the times when they cussed their best friend, they abused the grocer, the Indian cricket team, they cussed everyone. It was like breathing!
I understood it only when I was made the object. Until then, I thought, it was cool, you know, to call a crazy tempo driver a name that meant that he slept with his own sister. I thought that was the worst thing one could say to a man.
I thought since my brothers said it, it was cool! But why objectify the poor sister. Or mother. Or any woman? Is that how men demand dignity? By bringing women in the way of whatever they do? What are they without women then, that they need their involvement in abusing other men too? Aren’t there abuses which are man enough, which involve only men?
I remember that day, all my brothers cried. Like never before! Not even when our mother had died.
***
To read Edition 3 of Oh!Womania click here –> Edition_3_May_2014
Music! Lyrics! And all the sources of entertainment! Movies? Ya, they too. Heard about this new movie coming out? F*UGLY? I wonder what it means. I have no brains to dichotomize it and understand the idea behind the movie name. I will have to wait until it is released to understand the intentions. I may even go and watch it. Why? Because the title is so intriguing and hip!
I remember when they released this movie called Delhi Belly; the song had become a craze. DK Bose? Remember. You won’t believe my maid’s cellphone’s ring tone is this song. Even today! I asked her why she doesn’t change it. She says it’s an ever green, catchy and a famous song. She said she liked it.
And then, the Pakistani band once made a ‘Sutta’ song that all smokers swear by, even today! People love Salman Khan dancing over ‘Character Dheela hai’. All this and so much Gandi Baat, by God.
‘I swear! Chhoti dress mein bomb lagdi mennu‘… yo yo Honey Singh! He is a trendsetter in his own might. So many people love him. Let’s just accept he is doing great! I happened to watch his interview with Anupama Chopra and trust me; my level of respect for him grew from the level of the tire of my car, to the level of the bonnet. Really! You know what I mean? Right?
Honey Singh is unreservedly honest about his work and he has no qualms about using such sleazy lyrics to sell his work. He confessed that there was a time when he used to make patriotic songs and had also released an album on Bhagat Singh’s birthday. But none of the listeners were interested nor did the album sell. People wanted songs for occasions like Valentine’s Day, Proposal Day, songs meant for flirting and impressing girls and guys. Songs they could play in weddings and dance. So, he started making these songs…
‘Oh yeah oh yeah…Katal kare tera bomb figure’.
Can we blame him? Is there anyone who blames people who have made DK Boses and Suttas and Sexy Eyes? They are not to be blamed. They are people who are selling their art and sadly this is what appeals to the consumers.
And who are the consumers? YOU! And ME! US! We are the ones who make these songs a hit, and make those movies a success and we start using them in our day to day expressions.
I wasn’t shocked when a 3 year old boy was chasing his friend in the park, singing “Bhag Bhag DK Bose, DK Bose, Bhaag Bhaag DK Bose DK Bhaag!”
I stared cluelessly for what seemed like an eternity and sighed, ‘Aandhi aayi hai!… Hmmpph!’
***
To read Edition 3 of Oh! Womania click here –> Oh! Womania-Edition3-May2014
In the Mythological land of India not even the goddesses were spared. Goddesses were questioned about their sanctity. Religions are male dominated or so they seem to be. Maybe Language was also a man’s priced possession. Men are supposed to earn and Women are merely for pleasure.
While the etiquettes in the language used in the past, show ‘bloke’ and ‘fat head’ as words of abuses, the present day world uses all sort of superlative curses. These words not only abuse the man, but also verbally rape, molest, character-assassinate the female members of the man’s family.
I have often wondered on the invention of such abusive language, why and how did a ‘bloke’ become a ‘ch***ya’ or ‘fu***r? What do these words imply? I see no resemblance between the words ‘bloke’ and the latter which are now in trend.
What pleasure does a person seek or get after abusing another person’s mother or sister when he possibly has never even met them? If this gives a level of comfort, if this calms him down, then it sure is a pitiful situation. The level of sadism today has reached an all-time high. If abusing someone’s family is the only mean to calm one self, perhaps, trends like yoga or just shutting one’s big mouth isn’t working well enough.
I thought bi**h means a female dog, when later I matured enough to realize it meant a s**t as the B is open to all. I wonder why would you call your friend a S*** or a W***e, even out of love? Have you seen how the teenagers address each other? ‘Happy Birthday Bit*h’. That sure is an expression out of love, so why would a woman call another woman a slut, or give a title to her for sleeping with multiple partners? What is this trend all about?
Leave aside men, people find new means to abuse women, like it’s their pleasure sport. But why do Girls abuse Girls? I mean why on earth would one ‘mcbc’ people when one clearly knows it means something wrong?
S*x was considered divine and was expressed in various forms all over the temples. Then it was made a taboo and called a sin. Then it became a tool of verbal abuse and derogation. Now it’s become open yet closed, it’s used in derogation but still Media makes maximum money out of it. Be it porn, be it exposure or be it just the cuss words.
More the cusses bigger the hits. The sad part is, the so-called ‘women oriented movies’ show the women as ‘wannabe men’, with traits like a warrior or a mafia guy, cussing like a cheap, roadside Mawali. These very movies make huge money, by making women sit at a pedestal, showing that they are indeed uplifting women by making them utter the cusses like men do. Instead they are degrading them to the level of cheap men who blatantly use languages which is highly pejorative.
I just fail to understand. When a woman abuses does she become a strong woman? By demeaning her sisters? When icons of Bollywood and Hollywood degrade themselves and humanity, I wonder why do we applaud and make merry by pointing that ‘yes this movie empowered women, by cursing other women…..’
I wonder how many people know, that ‘ch***ya means earning a living of his wife’s prostitution. How many sick heads use it in every sentence and actually curse the wife he might not even know.
So to all the Gaali maaroing people who know or don’t know what it means, please ‘f*ck yourself’!
***
To read more articles from the latest Edition of Oh! Womania, Click here, to download your copy
–> Oh! womania-Edition3-May-2014
We are back with our 3rd Edition of Oh! Womania. This edition is about the age old tradition of Cussing and Swearing and our take on it! We have some interesting things like survey, quiz, interview, guest posts from our dear friends, and interesting articles!
Thanks for all the love and support for the previous editions and we hope you like this one too!
Write to us and let us know more about what you want to read and how did you find this edition!
Help spread the love.
Here’s the link to the Third Edition of Oh! Womania! –> Oh!Womania_Edition3_May_2014
So after a month, we are back with the second volume of Oh! Womania. Thanks for all the love and affection for the first volume… 🙂
Here’s the link for the second Volume –> Oh!Womania_Volume2_Apr_2014
Happy Reading!
Let us know how do you find it. Leave your comments and help spread the love with Diba and Yamini! 🙂
Survey – What the guys had to say!
We happened to take a random survey and asked around 25 guys a simple question.
“If it was allowed and if you owned an IPL team, and there were women cricket players (great at cricket) ready to play, would you bid for them? Yes/ No”
Here are the results!
The guys who said NO, had pretty clear things to say, like “From business point of view, I will not include a female player in my IPL team!” The other one had to say, “No, it makes no sense, I will lose the tournament”. We don’t judge any of them. But there were many who very enthusiastically said YES for reasons apart from skills and talent. Some interesting answers that we got from the guys were :
“Is this bid for cheerleaders – then definitely YES”. One said, “I would have 2 good looking women cricketers who would inspire the other 9 men in the team to play with the strength of 15”. The other said, “I will earn money, because I’ll have more spectators! So yes, I will have women in my team”
We were not surprised at the responses. There is a lot that needs to be changed and done. Mindset – to begin with. The idea of women being just an object of desire or beauty needs to be gotten over and women need to be accepted for the strength they possess.
For the remaining who genuinely believed in women and said YES, they are the kind of men, society needs! Well, challenges make heroes.
We are already facing a number of them!
| She was lovingly called Manu when she was a little girl, her real name being Manikarnika. That’s when I thought, I would call my project Manikarnika! |
1. Priyanka, tell us, why this name “Manikarnika”?
I was looking for something related to women-power. Something resembling the fire within women, which if given a proper direction blossoms into something magnificent. I had asked my friends to suggest me names for this Cricket Tourney and they all came up with very good suggestions, but none appealed. I kept looking for that one perfect name, until the last moment. While going through books and websites, I realized I was satisfied with Rani Laxmi Bai as an icon for the tournament. She is indeed an inspiration to the women in India. I wondered how could I justify her name and my tournament both! Kuch bhi click nahi ho raha tha! Then I read about Rani Laxmi bai’s childhood.
She was lovingly called Manu when she was a little girl, her real name being Manikarnika. That’s when I thought, I would call my project Manikarnika!
It sounds like a perfect platform for the young, budding cricketers, doesn’t it?
2. Sure, it does! What gave you the idea for creating and organizing Manikarnika?
On completing my graduation I had an idea of starting up a residential academy for girls. It was even before VCA started with its own, but practically it was not possible since the strength of female cricketers in Vidarbha region was reducing day by day. So finally after my post-graduation I decided to start working at the grass root level and that’s how Manikarnika was born.
With Manikarnika, work at the grass root level has started and in next 5 year Vidarbha will have huge turnout for the selection trials and very soon many girls from our region will represent the zone and the Indian side.
4. What or who is the inspiration behind this whole project?
Prevailing situation of women’s cricket encouraged me to come up with it.
There are many people behind it – Adv. Baba Rocque and Adv. Jagdish Karnewar have inspired me with work and my friends especially Madhumita, Diba Shilpa and Yamini believed in my project.
5. Tell us about your team – Creative stance and what future activities do you plan to organize?
Words fall short to describe my team. It was initially just a bunch of female cricketers along with some really talented and creative people like Madhumita who helped me conceive and develop this idea. Now it has grown with more talented people and professionals involved.
Very soon we’ll be coming up with leather ball tournament. From next year it’s more likely that Creative Stance shall organize it twice a year with teams from other parts of Maharashtra getting involved. Also we are planning to come up with a female cricket club where we’ll not just train them to be good cricketers but also help their overall growth and development.
We’d love to present the first edition of our e-magazine Oh! Womania which was meticulously developed over BBM pings and conference talks on a famous cellular network. The profits for them are rocketing!
Well, not swaying from the main topic, let us present to you this magazine, which, in it’s very first edition, covers Manikarnika – a cricket tournament for U19 girls of the Vidarbha region which was held in February’14.
This women’s day, we decided to do something, we always love to do – Share and Give! (Grapevine? Maybe!!)
Help us spread the love..Pretty please! 🙂 –> Oh!Womania_Volume_I_Mar2014
Oh! Womania 