Saturday 29 December 2012

I once dreamed about...

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda

So, the year is about to end and as much as we want it to end on a positive note, there is a sense of failure and disgust in the general public. The rape victim, a girl in her early 20s has died in Singapore. Protests are on, government is taking all the wrong steps like shutting down the metro stations and lathi-charging peaceful protesters.

My post is dedicated to all the lessons that we can take into 2013. True that the state of affairs is sad and sorry but it's nice to know that we are still empathetic and awake. We didn't forget the incident in two days but channelized our rage into an enough is enough sort of movement. Even the girl who breathed her last must not have felt alone at her deathbed when the nation prayed for her. She has awakened the society by fighting on. The media too has done a commendable job this time by keeping the vigil alive and not letting the matter get trivialized in the corridors of politics.

So, here's to 2013,
here's to hope-

I once dreamed about her,
she was my only wish.
She jumped with joy seeing me,
she craved for my kiss.
She loved me endlessly,
and was never tired of the wait.
I loved her too, I called her,
whenever I got delayed.

She held my hand all through,
she smiled looking at me.
I looked at her and found life,
my eyes glittered with glee.
Her love made me stronger,
I could push myself more.
I worked harder, toiled in sun,
till my palm and feet were sore.

She kept me waiting sometimes,
she had promises to keep.
I waited patiently, to see her,
without her I wouldn't sleep.
She kept me awake at nights,
sometimes she got sick.
I held her tight, till I was around,
She needed no walking stick!

This love, this joy, this togetherness,
was all but my dreams.
I protested, I held candles,
but all I could hear was screams!

We love the freedom like it's our sweetheart but it still remains a dream. Here's a hope, a small wish that one day, she comes running to us. It's the feeling of not being afraid of anyone and it can come only through the right kind of attitude from within.


Make them Crave!

This post is a part of the 'Shave or Crave' movement in association with

This post is on behalf of my girlfriend. Thanks to her, I am a part of this movement too.

Here are a few tips--

This is how I achieved it with my guy! It's your turn ladies! Make them shave or crave!!

Saturday 22 December 2012

Write Over the Weekend (WOW) – Dec 21, 2012- A letter to a 10 year old.

A letter to a ten year old.

Place: Chhatarpur (MP)
Date: 15 February 1998

Happy birthday, kid. Here's wishing you loads of success and zero hardships!!

I'm writing to you because I know how much of a turmoil your life has been through and how much unrest have you been going through. I know everything. That broken remote control car is gone, India just lost another cricket match. Mathematics is getting tougher as we speak. It is saddening. 

That girl in the neighbourhood- What's her name? Deepali? You hate her, right buddy? Well, she keeps annoying you because she likes you. Don't ever let her tie that rakhi on your wrist. She doesn't know what she's doing but it's pretty stupid. Stop sitting near that cute female whose driver comes to drop her in an Ambassador car in the assembly. She is the devil. She'll make you do all her homework and won't even give a peck on your cheek as you might have fancied. Stay away from such girls in future too. Nevver evver chase these type of girls. She thinks you're a simpleton who can easily be fooled by the way.

That PC you've been asking your parents to buy, it's not the right time, kid. They're not in the financial condition to buy it. You'd anyway have no use for it. 

Why have you started sitting at the back benches? It's not good. You were a front bencher because, you had the confidence to answer questions. Now, you're getting complacent. You have to keep the competitive spirit alive. You have to learn to fight. So what if you don't like math? Don't develop a phobia, kid. You're awesome. You're a prodigy. If you focus more on math, you can opt for it in higher classes. Then, you can pursue physics which will be your favourite subject because of its sheer comprehensiveness. Otherwise you'd end up taking biology and eventually as a dentist. Do you want to be a dentist? 

Also, don't stop participating in competitions. Go to more camps, go socialize. You have to indulge yourself into extra-curricular activities too. Sports will give you leadership qualities, joining the cadets will teach you the art of survival.

Last minute cramming before exams might be fruitful but you'll hate it when you grow up and have no idea about what you studied in school. Cultivate good habits of reading and revising daily. Let others make fun of you. You have to grow up and be different.

Ok, enough preaching. I just want you to excel. I am sorry if I sounded more like a teacher. I actually care too much about who you become in the future; after all, I am "you" from the future. This is 22. 12 . 2012.


This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda

Thursday 20 December 2012

To undo the rape

Much outrage has been created via facebook, whatsapp campaigns, water canons have been fired, street protests have been held but, nothing has helped eves from getting teased and molested all across the country. There is no unidirectional approach to curb this heinous crime against women.

Much has been written about the psyche, the attitude of the criminal; how the western culture is a bad influence on ours and how there should have been a slower transition towards modernity. The rift between the two Indias is noticeable and how we should speak up and spark the change.

Nobody however seems to think about how rape and sex are two totally different things. I have read and also believe that rape isn't mere sexual frustration. It's a direct form of physical violence with the prime agenda being establishing the supremacy over the other person. Males think of themselves as the higher, more powerful of the two genders and consider it to be the duty of the fairer sex to bow down to their order and whims. They learn this at their homes where mothers get slapped, elder sisters and bossed around by younger brothers, moral policing is the full-time job of uncles, aunts and even neighbours. This is not Indian culture. This is a culture that roots from male's ego. Female ego is an equally dangerous thing and leads to many crimes but this male ego is far more lethal because it has the support of those mothers, wives, daughters who bow down in front of it. Even the society approves of it. Not culture, the society. It comprises of people who have vested interests. People who make profit from their relations with the patriarch. The patriarch is the one running the business, making decisions, mixing in the society. His ego needs to be fed and  in the process, this whole set-up creates monsters who aren't as productive as the patriarch but have imbibed the values fed to them by the society.

If anyone can break this vicious circle, it's girls themselves. They need to take, nay, snatch the helm and start making decisions. They need to be united socially, not in an aggressive and feminist kind of a way but in a "sister, I have your back" kind of way.

The Khap needs female members who eventually dismantle the mechanism of producing more patriarchs. The arranged marriages need to be looked down upon by the society. The jobless, abusive males need to be discouraged from having an identity let alone "ego". Drinking and abusing need to be dissociated. Verbal abuse should be looked down upon by the society and not romanticized. No, Lord Ram cannot be our ideal now. He was a patriarch. We need a new mythical character, preferably male who can stand up to the society, not give in to the pressure and take an "agnee pariksha".

As far as my personal views about the punishment that should be given to the rapists, I think they are the apples that have gone horribly wrong. No scope of redemption. I think they should be first castrated, then kept in pain for a month and then hanged. Then their bodies should be put on display in the socially bankrupt societies of India. The patriarchs should have a conscience but now that things are so skewed, they first should have fear and then respect for women. Only then the next generations can have a better future.

I know it's just an angry rant but, I couldn't sit quiet!

Wednesday 19 December 2012

Desh ki hajamat

Shave or Crave!!

This post is a part of the 'Shave or Crave' movement in association with

Below are some real life experiences which have taken the "shave or crave" movement forward-


Me- Hey! Your face looks red today, is that some allergy?
She- It'd be better if I don't say anything!!
Me- Eh? What did I do?

*confused stare*

She- This is from your stubble, last night. How'd you like if I rub your face in sand and call it cuddling?
Me- Okay, okay. I got it!

He- This feels so right.
She- I always thought we were meant to be.
He- I have always waited for this moment.
She- Me too

*He leans in for a kiss*

She- Yeaaa... we're done here!!
He- But, wha.. I mean, what happned. Lis.. Listen!! Listen toh sahi!!


He leans into a kiss.
Finds a needle poking his upper lip!

He- OUCH!! What the hell, jana!?
She- Exactly.


It had been one years since they started dating. In the evening, he took her out, feeling all rugged and masculine in his stubble and she dressed seductively in her LBD. As a token of love, he had got her a dinner reservation at an upmarket restaurant. She too decided to surprise him.

He- I love you so much. Here.. *takes out a rose* This is to tell you how I feel when I kiss you.
She- Oooh by that logic, I too have something for you.
He- What is it babe?
She- *points to a cactus plant*


So guys, shave OR crave!! *shudders*

Friday 7 December 2012

Write Over the Weekend (WOW) – Dec 7, 2012 Last Tree Standing

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda

Hi there,

It hasn't been a fun week as I saw all my brothers getting felled and taken away for you humans' petty needs. I am lonely now in this bald, wretched forest but do not pity me, pity yourself. Pity yourself for what you've deprived yourself of, for the fate that is going to fall your way now, for years of suffering that you are going to bear. Yes, I am lonesome for now but I won't be for long, I will spread out my branches, give shelter to all sorts of creatures and be happily rooted here with my family. I might fall to your greed some day but I'll leave in peace, not gasping for fresh air, reaching out for water like you.

Please pardon my angry tone, I am from the country where Goutam Buddha attained eternal knowledge under the shadow of a tree, where trees are worshiped and respected and they too give back to the society. My branches are for your children to swing and lean with, my fruits are for you, my flowers are to decorate you and your Gods but my life is the only thing on which I thought I had some right. You need timber, you need land, we trees understand that and have allowed you to expand on mother earth as much as your need. But now greed is taking over need. You are taking more than you give. This deforested area is an example.

I know I am supposed to be all wise, patient and calm even in calamity. You must never have heard me in this scathing, loathsome and hurtful tone but you compelled me, son. Yes, I consider you as my child. Your cradle was made of my wood, the couch on which you sat through hours together was actually my lap. Your school desks and seats, your work cabin, everywhere you were in a cradle given by me. I gave, gave, gave but now, I give up!

As a father, I am disappointed and tired but as a fellow earthling, I am your brother with our mother being the planet Earth, I urge you to stop. Not for me, because I am anyway not going to last for long, neither are you, but her! She has to live. She has to give birth and she has to witness her children growing up and making her proud. She deserves to be happy. So, please, stop!

Edit- 22 Dec 2012
And thank you blogadda for the badge. Love you guys. Here's my badge for this post-

Tuesday 4 December 2012

"Building Love"- My entry to the GetPublished contest

  • The story is titled "Building Love" because it's my own story of how I built love out of scratch. In this age of social media and computers, it's very hard to know the person truly even after talking to him/her for hours. I have stayed patient, taken mental notes and have realized how I feel about the girl through due course of time. I am going to describe how I built this relationship and what is the cement that holds us together.

  • The Idea description- The story starts through an online chance encounter between me and this girl. It is not a fairy tale since the beginning but it slowly metamorphoses into one. It's about building confidence, building tolerance, building respect, discovering each other and finally, discovering "love". The story is woven around the initial turmoil and misunderstanding and slowly but steadily reaching its final fate. It's not about what do you feel in your heart but "how" do you start feeling it. What makes it unique is that although set in an era of facebook and whatsapp, it grows only when real conversations replace generic emoticons. 

  • Protagonists- It's about me and the girl I am very much in love with. It's also about Facebook. It also features my ex-flames and hers. It is a romance straight out of your neighbourhood yet so different from any other.

  • The Situation- Two people, at different stages of their lives, looking for different things, end up finding true love. The journey from fake to real, mundane to adventurous, ordinary to passionate is phenomenal. It's about understanding someone through conversations. Conversations are about generating heat. Conversations that lead to the path of discovery and epiphanies. It's about discovering yourself through the other person's eyes.

  • What makes the story real? Its characters. Just like me and my girlfriend, it can be you, any day, browsing through facebook, randomly flipping through profiles. Romantic at heart, losing hope, yet trying to hold on. It describes what tests does love take and the ways to pass those tests. It tries to discover love. It's actually the secret recipe to make the heart grow fonder.

This is my entry for the HarperCollins–IndiBlogger Get Published contest, which is run with inputs from Yashodhara Lal and HarperCollins India.

Saturday 1 December 2012

Silence is a great healer.

Silence is a great healer and that's why he chose to remain silent. He was supposed to be heading the pack but the right was snatched away from him. He wasn't a born leader but he was improving, he was working tirelessly on the pitch of his voice, the right intonation, conviction in ideas. It all boiled down to nothing when his voice wasn't heard and his self esteem was shattered. He hated the matriarch for this. He knew it was his rightful duty to raise voice against this but, he also knew that doing so would cost him and the party dearly. He kept quiet and became the unsung hero. He bore the load of charges against his team single-handedly. Never spoke a single world. Never did he lose his temper. His silence was golden. Some even rechristened him as "Maunmohan Singh" but he never opened his mouth.
He is our prime minister.

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend
, an initiative for Indian Bloggers
 by BlogAdda