Wallflower

Observe. Absorb. Tell. hit counter

[tanban]

Catching the Vibe

He would never be unemployed. He knew that for sure. More than anything else he enjoyed the guarantee of his job being ever-consequential. He did not mind working all that much, except that he would constantly get bogged down with multiple feelings all at once and he would not know what to make of it. Alfonso was a “Vibe Provider”. It was his business to catch it, store it and then represent it for consumption.

[tanban]

When I blab after a movie part 3

Simplicity never lets a memory fade. “Paper Planes” for many would be predictable movie with not much twists and hardly any shocks to make you jump off your seat and yet this movie the one thing I love about art; it makes you feel hopeful and for some absolutely happy.

To win or lose is not the point, to create something that matters is. “Paper Planes” preaches this universally acknowledged message through children and one 12 year old kid in particular. The plot is basic. Dylan discovers he can fly paper planes that can get him to do well in competitive levels and so he works hard to break each stage and reach the end, all the while battling his father’s depression after the death of his mother mere 5 months ago.

Dylan is an optimistic good kid who rages repeatedly against his father’s darkness and hopes he comes to himself. His bully turned friend brings lovingly camaraderie onscreen in spite of him thinking Tokyo being in china. His best friend’s victory dance towards the end is one of my favorite moments, apart from Dylan’s grandfather landing up in the garage sale with his “milk shakes”. Dylan’s Japanese friend points out how she wished there weren’t winner but only beautiful flying planes and Dylan’s competitor from Australia; a boy who doesn’t want to make friends with people he wants to beat provide the contrast of two worlds. One where the journey is valued and the other where the end is all that matters.

Unfortunately for kids from a young age, to be better than the next kid is the objective and incase of Indian parents the ever present Sharma ji’s son is the exact embodiment of this philosophy. So even if I’m in my 20s, I’ve been a product of this same system that makes me want to be the best, to always rank 1st. what a movie like this then does for me is make me want to believe in the journey again. It reminded me how much more meaningful a journey can be with or without a 1st rank featuring in it. It’s similar to the Amir Khan starrer “3 Idiots” to run not after success but towards excellence and success follows right through.

A light breezy movie with lots of smiles and warmth to fill you up, this movie has a heart that would get yours beating bright!

  ` �

[tanban]

Healthy and Happy

“You’re slightly on the healthy side”  

I’ve been told about my appearance in an ever polite way by people so many times that now I laugh unfortunately unabashedly at the irony of that sentence. It’s the most polite way of telling a person she is overweight in process stating the obvious, yet healthy is not what an overweight person is.  So now when (after so many years of trying to keep up an exercise schedule, mind my diet, and not being able to be the right size ever) I hear someone telling me this, it truly feels like they’re mocking me.

Don’t need people telling me I’m “healthy” when I’m not. Nobody needs to be “told” about their appearance by 50 people, especially if it’s nothing positive. Trust me, everyone fat or not aspires to be healthy and fit along with being able to wear their favorite dresses AND eat what they want when they want.

I am definitely one of those people. Crash diets don’t work for two reasons, first is that stopping the urge to gorge on delicious food when being presented by some feels like denying oneself the right to be happy. Food makes one happy. So eating is good. So why diet? Second reason is that when people do manage to kill their desires and avoid food altogether end up getting thin rapidly, along with losing the shine in their eyes and the nutrition a daily healthy diet is supposed to provide. A stick think dead faced dry skinned person is as attractive as a dried up raisin. Crash dieting also ensures a rapid gain in weight in non-uniform manner throughout one’s body when stopped. This produces an effect opposite to what one had intended when killing one self with hunger.

Only two things make sense; to eat healthy mostly and indulge occasionally into the sinful food options. Workout regularly and adopt options that help hinge up one’s metabolism so that the work out reaps best results. Mixing honey in lukewarm water with a hint of lemon juice helps, so does green tea. The other thing that helps is a fulfilled breakfast that is supposed to keep you up and about throughout the day. And the best and easiest cheat ever? To eat everything. Always!

Weighty issues are difficult to handle, with the world telling you to be certain way that defines what good is. At the end of the day “good” is what makes you happy and nothing else. So if you’re losing your hair cracking up about your body image, there’s something not good in it. A will that wants what it wants can do anything. So barge into that plan to stay healthy, no matter what size and pick the necessary measures. A continued approach to a healthy lifestyle can do wonders that no crash dieting can ever compensate. Perseverance and patience along with lots of fun and happiness should be what leads you to come in a shape that you and your body pleases.

 http://www.daburhoney.com/

[tanban]

That first time I braved my way :)

Changes ensue that we try out new things. Enter anew phase or swish into a new time. New entails that there will always be afirst time to these things and my small change occurred when I was to board thefirst flight ever on my own.

I was around 15 when the long summer break at schooldirected I pay a visit to my grandparent’s house. Travelling by air has neverbeen my favorite mode of travel. The only thing good about flights are thepretty airports one gets to while their time around. Trains for me are far more comfortable and lively to be in. So for these very reasons, I insisted that travel by train. My overtly protective parents considered and completely obliterated my suggestion out of the emphasizing how I was not competent enough to be on my own, and I might get down at wrong stop or for that matter take the wrong train. They made various arguments that I could have easily fought of but then they threw in the idea of me being allowed to travel by air. I was lured into this only and only because of those airports.

So my big moment? Was me being able calm my jumpy nerves down about being able to travel on my own. I was nervous. What if the flight took off without me? What if I got on the wrong one? What if  air-sick with no parent to help me? And most of all, what if the plane fell down? I know, I was being paranoid. But I had never travelled alone, and to do all of this all by me self was an intimidating prospect. I was a cushioned kid who had next to no experience with the real world, of course I was weirded out. So much so, that I started making excuses of cancelling the trip.

The day of my flight, I was packed and I had made my parents come with me till the airport(as far as I could cling under their shadow being my carefree self) and then I was time for me to go solo. My father gave me piece of paper in my hands, shoved the passport and my papers in my hands, and laughed at me as I was gulped down, put my “this is a piece of cake” face and headed inside.

Delhi airport is beautiful. Once I entered, I knew I had a lot of time on hand. I looked around and took the business in. nobody was bothered what the other was doing. There were people at every fifth step offering assistance. Basically, nobody cared how inexperienced a traveler I was, and that situation worked well for my nerves. I was calming down and realizing that this was going to be fun. So I turned around a as expected found my parents watching me through the glass panels, waved at them with a big excited smile and headed further.

I opened the paper that my father had handed to me and it was laced up with directions at every step that I needed to do so, I could reach my way smoothly to my seat. I read them twice. And started following them one by one. It was almost like following a cooking recipe. Only the results here were neater. The final security check was left when my father called me to know how everything was. “Yes” I said. Then he asked me if had got the tags on my cabin bags. I looked down and there were no tags. I told him “yes, I have the tags”, he couldn't see me, he wouldn't know. So I got out of the line, rushed back to the counter, took my tags and got back in the line. I was smiling at me by now. Every formality was done. I was now roaming inside checking out the various showrooms inside reeking of a seasoned traveler. I waited for my flight with a book in my hand, like I do this every day. And then I boarded my flight, all the while smiling because, now I was feeling like this was easy. This must be all the fuss that adults make such easy things out to be. We had taken off and now I was reading and sleeping and eating and sleeping some more. Realizing and noticing various small details about the sky, the people and the flight. We landed; I got out, into the cab straight to my grandparent’s house. Gave them the surprise they hadn’t anticipated and told them the story of my journey. They were impressed by my first time journey (I might have exaggerated my heroics a bit far) but I was pretty impressed by myself too!

https://housing.com/

[tanban]

To be together

In a lifetime, one experiences (sometime even discovers)a plethora of emotions banging the head every day of the year, every hour andevery second. The heart wants what it wants, and when it doesn’t get what it wants? The heart aches. In my lifetime(it’s been merely a few twenty years and I do want to span much longer except for now its only twenty something) it hasn’t taken long to realize that happiness is not a phase or a permanent phenomenon. It can’t be attributed to a single moment and pinpointed as the happiest.

I certainly am unable to do that. When I think happy, a range of images flash by me that remind me this feeling does not exist in solo renditions. The “feel good” is all over the place, all over this world. Its situated in the midst of families who love each other, in little children playing football in the muddy rain, in beautiful old ladies having a day out, in teenagers shrieking with excitement and energy at their favorite band’s concert, in the first time you fall in love, in that time when your love is reverted with more, when you win that contest, or ace that exam, when you get your first job, when you get off on weekends from that job, when you go for an average dinner, when you gorge on junk food, when you are told you are good, when you are told you’ll do good, when in short, you experience people.

It was in the middle of the scorching summer months last year; so hot that I had almost started hallucinating rain. It was unbelievable, the heat sodden through my clothes as I sat down in my room wishing for some bit of cool rain to be embraced on poor me. I wasn’t happy at that point of time. Some fight has broken off at home regarding me and my career paths and I was sulking. It must have been a stretch of two to three months of nothing, significant happening. Except for the extreme weather I guess. But with the air conditioners, life wasn’t hard ; just not very comfortable for an average romantic (happy when pleasant weather stays) kind of a person. In the middle of these days it finally happened.

The morning had started out in the same vacuum of nothing just like any other day, but by the afternoon, the sun had gone behind heavy dense clouds. The wind was blowing like a crazy dragon blazing fire for just its pleasure’s sake except instead of fire, it was beautiful cool wind. My mood was already puckering up with all that rustling of leaves and whistle like sounds the outside made. My mother was in her room working for some presentation she had and I decided to open the windows and the doors to my veranda as wide open as they would go. By the time it was four in the evening, the sky turned pitch black, thunder erupted from every other corner of the cryptic sky and windows started smashing back and forth. And now I was smiling. It was going to rain and I was happy beyond my limits. One gust of wind entered my room, I heard my mother shout at me, rushed to her and saw all her presentation papers draped on the carpet floor. As I helped pick them up in the middle of her irritation yet concern at the changing weather, a thunder struck again and BANG! It was raining!

It rained as if the clouds were compensating for their leave from job that they had taken and hadn’t returned by the time they had promised. The sound of heavy shower was so welcome to not just me but the whole of delhi, that I got texts telling me how pleased it was making everyone around. The sky pitch black and water pouring down with all its might, it needed music. So I switched on the boom box, music blared and it was beautiful. I was looking longingly at the rain when my mother, my cautious concerned wear-a-pullover-or-you’ll-catch-cold mother came to and asked if I wanted to go into it. I first thought she was joking, but she wasn’t she seemed genuinely interested in getting into it. I jumped at the proposal and before she could change her mind, brought the house keys, pushed mumma out of the door and we rushed downstairs. We stood there in the middle of the rain. We walked, ran the length of the society campus, we shrieked and shouted and danced in the rain. It was just me and her. It was so rare a moment and beautiful; we were shivering and singing and laughing and soaking ourseveles in the heavy bliss of the rain that had finally decided to pour on us. Few people came to their verandas and looked at us. They must have either thought we were mad or really really happy. I’m sure we were the latter.

The rain subsided and slowed down gradually. We came back after a while. Made ourselves some coffee and sat down in the warmth of now very bright and welcoming house. It wasn’t much. Nothing grand happened. No achievement was achieved or benchmarks exceeded, but we were happy. I was “feeling good”.  These few hours in the middle of life I had managed to steal doing nothing. Worrying about nothing and being in that moment. I’ve realized situations like these are the most rewarding and rare. So without much effort that day, I felt positive about my life.

As long as I kept having these intervening moments in the middle of all the crap that life usually we assume is, I’ll be able to live. And manage to feel “infinite” from one moment to another. Effort is one compulsion that is required for one to be feeling effortlessly good. Tiny happy and positive moments pass us by and we let it go because we are too busy with life. Life is a challenge most of the time but it’s also worth living for moments exactly like these. Life is good.  One only needs to notice better.

s

https://housing.com/

[tanban]

Eat, Love, Happiness...

Weekends have charm to them that no weekday can evertake away. Then again, weekends have a charm because the fatal Working days doexist. Connotatively,  I’d say days spentwith my family doing nothing but dedicating my hours entirely to the pleasure that arises out of constant laughing, bickering, gossiping, eating and more laughing ensuing out of family gatherings, are equally enjoyable because it offers an escape from the continues struggles of make something of me out of the fateful life.

A simple trip out of the home on a Sunday with your parents ensures you get unlimited supply of whatever it is that you ask for- food-wise. A simple trip to the Fatehpur Sikri ensures a joyous car ride with your favorite music making you dance and doll out in the car as you play the DJ. Then you sleep as your parents take over the stereo and later because you have been listening to those songs forever, you ultimately involuntarily start singing along to Kishor Kumar as well. You don’t know it yet but your father has managed to get you hooked on to this guy’s music and when you come back home, you’re shocked to be browsing the internet for more of his stuff.

Stop at an occasional Dhaba in between somewhere after a lot of harrowing that you are hungry. Harrowing is required because your father is on a roll sitting in front of the wheel and his joy for the drive doesn’t let him stop until your mother gives him the eye. So then you stop  and finally get your hands on the delicious Punjabi tandoor stuffed paratha bathing in butter. Avoiding eye contact from everyone around you gobble the butter clad paratha in a few mouthfuls, down a drink after and you’re so full you want to sleep now. So you do precisely that. You’re with your parents, the kid, the not responsible for anything. So you sleep at the back while your father drives on the smooth road, him and your mother spilling out a duet that they don’t seem to remember the lyrics of.

You reach the Sikri, look around willing yourself to be the queen one day and having it all like Jodha bai did. Because you seem to have the same characteristics as her you’re told by your parents; Stubborn and assertive. Not being able to decide if that was a compliment or not, you steer clear of your parent’s way for a while because you know arguments are not your strong feat. Out of their way, you spot a chana wala sitting isolated. Now you need one of your parents to help you out with the cash here, so causally you slide back in between their sightseeing and land a deal with the chana wala. Once again with a stomach full of happiness, you click some usual pictures with different angles trying to catch the sun rays somehow, because everything should have a challenge, right? So finally after clicking pictures at awkward positions, you wander around for some more time and head back to your car. Way back home is slightly less energetic and mellow. As the evening comes, the sun goes down, you’re tired spirits are puckering back up as the lights are turned on everywhere on the streets and then you enter Delhi and are now stuck in a traffic jam; there go your spirits again. After being stuck in traffic for hours you finally reach home. You’re tired and your warm bed is waiting. As you close your eyes, you realize it was a good day. And to have more like these wouldn’t be so bad.

I suppose that has much to do with having to go back to college on the next day. A small trip of this sort not only made it possible to be mostly happy throughout the day, but it ensured I went back into my life the next day continuing this happy spirit for as long as it could last.

https://housing.com/lookup

[tanban]

To be safe and loved

The catastrophe of being a 20 something girl living in a big dangerous city with a set of parents, who love you more than their lives, is that all of your life’s decisions are made with respect to your safety. You are the safest when at home. So get a job that allows me to be at home the most. Do things that don’t take my time after the sun goes down. Survive by not participating. I am not going to stand up and fight the battle but I am going to lay low and make the best of my situation.This ensues that in spite of having everything going for yourself to succeed, the one thing that pulls you back is your city. Pierre Bourdieu says that the success of any being depends on the kind of environment he or she grows up in. This environment comprises of your family and friends. The family gives one the essentials of living. And your friends and connections spring from the kind of values and beliefs your family has managed or not managed to instill in you. I am the owner of a generous “habitus”. Educated and forward thinking parents who want their twenty something to go as high up as she can possible manage. The catch? She has to be safe first. So while Bourdieu might have the part about “healthy family = successful kid” bang on right. (At least in most cases)  he totally snubs the possibility of the external forces hampering this success. My city won’t let me be safe. My parents who want me to be awesome at life with all their might would not be able to let me do whatever it is that I might choose to do. They would want me to adjust to the situation.The problem? Adjusting. Being a dreamer is easy. And wanting to be something phenomenal in life is everybody’s dream; to be that, I have to be an adult first. My habitus here seems to be constricting me to not leap. I am being babied into safety and everyday that goes by with my parents protecting me, a day I lose where I could have protected myself. So while I am more than thankful for a habitus that was custom made for me and my success, I feel the need to distance myself with it. To be able to be impendent. To live without a man or an authority lovingly guiding me through. All of this has been talked of for so long that saying a girl has the right to be independent, now is a mere cliché. Having stringent authoritarian structures makes it easy. The mixes of emotions from both the sides make it complex beyond solution. Simply put, love binds me to my “not growing up”. To take charge and be the hero of one’s own life, one fears the loss of love that exists in abundance irrespective of you being a hero or not. And what if the hero fails utterly? You blame yourself for breaking out. Here’s wishing Delhi gets safe this woman’s day. So I don’t have to worry about breaking out, but am free in my own beautiful city. And let’s just not say hero anymore. Those people die.

[tanban]

[tanban]

Golden Gate

[tanban]

When I blab after a book

GONE GIRL!

 What did I just finish reading? I still can’t wrap my head around how it ended. Gone Girl is the first Gillian Flynn novel I read and maybe because of the lack of a solid reading list of this genre, the story felt unique and new.

Two protagonists, a husband and wife are the heart and soul of this novel. Starts off like a breeze, with a happy couple who before you’ve turned a few pages is hitting the ditches. You’d expect a tale of utmost hate, of irritation, of darkness enveloping the failed marriage right? So Flynn gives you what you’d expect, at first. A socially challenged husband who’s mamma’s boy attitude tends to get on his wife’s as well as his reader’s nerves. The wife in her diary appears to be a tad bit of doormat. Nick draws long claims declaring his wife to be the eternal bitch. And the reader wonders why Amy’s diary makes these claims look fake. You spend half the book thinking what a sad man Nick is when Flynn along with his female protagonists decides to turn the tables on you. Yes you, who is reading the book wondering where this is going, is slapped in the face with a fact; the wife had written a fake diary. Reader had been tricked into the plot by the very wife who was manipulating her husband!

So there goes, from then on we are introduced to the crazy wife of the highest level. She’s a biblical woman apparently who believes very strongly in punishments. She’s a planner, and is disturbingly disciplined. She didn’t like people bringing her down, and her husband did just that. She took charge and thrashed back at her husband in ways that make a brilliant story.

And while I waited for a closure at the end of the book, I realized it wasn’t coming. The crazy wife and the trapped ass of a husband stayed together and grew a family.

“Happy families are all alike. Every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way”—Anna Karenina.

This would be an extremely unhappy family with pretensions being the rule of life.  Nick was trapped with a crazy, murderous and scheming wife. And Amy was trapped in her own whims of making life happy. There was a baby coming too.

Not having read anything like this before, I’d say it was gripping and an unsettling read!

[tanban]

When I blab after a movie Part2

There are times in life, when you have a few days off; from everything. Maybe you’ve had that final test, a final presentation, just quit your job or have become instantaneously rich so you are left with nothing much to do. Just for a few days, you’re clueless, without work and recreation is calling. Normally one would take a trip or a holiday, but I found a shorter and cheaper way to be rejuvenated. I had just two days of a break, so I wasted the first one being sorry for my good-for-nothing state, the next day, I saw a movie.

It’s kind of a funny story; that’s the movie I saw.  Turns out, it was exactly what I needed in between as one of my friends puts it the “quarter life crises”.

It is the simplest story anyone can think of, no gimmicks or shocking incidents; it’s a plain trouble-free account. A depressed 16 year old visits the hospital after envisioning his suicide. He decides he needs help and after coaxing the doctor for some kind of “quick fix”, He lands himself in a mental ward and resides with the adults. Many would believe this kid is completely fine seeing the rest of his inmates.

On second thought IKFS feels like Shakespearean comedy, starting off with a conflict, going to an alien ground to sort it out, come back with conflict being resolved. Craig lands himself in the mental ward away from everything that’s causing him problems in life, and to me as viewer, looked like the break that every one of us yearn for, is what he got. One of his inmates Bob calls it vacation which in some ways makes absolute sense. Whenever it gets crazy inside Bob’s mind, he comes here. It’s his much needed break, the mental ward is as good as vacation; it has food, bed and random activities to keep your mind off your problems. Sometimes, people tackle some solutions for these problems too.

With scene of the drama set, Craig starts off his week with lunch, where he has trouble “keeping it down”. Following this are some Music, Art and Therapy sessions throughout which, different aspects of Craig are brought about. Craig has what I like to call the “Average syndrome” While everyone around him is excelling, he hyperventilates about what would happen if he didn’t excel; with girls, with grades and with his entire life. He tries, but things hardly ever fall into place. He’s your typical introvert in need for a solid talk. Only, nobody is ready for talk, everyone is busy “doing” things. It’s a rat race after all.

I like when a movie connects to you, and this one did. Craig for me is very believable. And that is why, the movie spoke to me more. How do a bunch of mad men help you feel good about yourself? That depends on the viewer completely. If nothing else, mad men will help you accept. Craig’s roommate is home sick and has accepted that American land has no hope at all, a schizophrenic with whom everyone plays along and Bob with his anger issues. They are learning to not expect from the society. So is Craig. Best part is that people don’t judge the other here. So the viewer is made to accept a bunch of weirdos and realize themselves to be in some way related to one or the other character.

After a heartfelt performance of  “Under Pressure” by the inmates and a few hearts breaking and healing, Craig’s discharging day arrives. But before he leaves, he plays some Egyptian music for his roommate. Because such a moment exceeds his expectation, something unexpected happens. The roommate comes into the dance floor on the night of the pizza party and dances his heart out to “his kind” of music. The other inmates first stare, but join in the fun. Craig leaves and this time, his vacation has been fruitful. The break rejuvenated him, in the process helping me. His life wasn’t perfect, but he realized he could survive. Random things could be done, as simple as skipping.

Craig: “Okay, I know you're thinking, "What is this? Kid spends a few days in the hospital and all his problems are cured?" But I'm not. I know I'm not. I can tell this is just the beginning. I still need to face my homework, my school, my friends. My dad. But the difference between today and last Saturday is that for the first time in a while, I can look forward to the things I want to do in my life. Bike, eat, drink, talk. Ride the subway, read, read maps. Make maps, make art. Finish the Gates application. Tell my dad not to stress about it. Hug my mom. Kiss my little sister. Kiss my dad. Make out with Noelle. Make out with her more. Take her on a picnic. See a movie with her. See a movie with Aaron. Heck, see a movie with Nia. Have a party. Tell people my story. Volunteer at 3 North. Help people like Bobby. Like Muqtada. Like me. Draw more. Draw a person. Draw a naked person. Draw Noelle naked. Run, travel, swim, skip. Yeah, I know it's lame, but, whatever. Skip anyway.”

His final advice;

“Breath…. Live.”

I’d say an escape well used. Time to get to work J

[tanban]

Clean Slate and some time, is all it takes.

My niece is around seven months old now. She’s the first kid of the next generation and she is definitely getting the perks of it. One thing one notices whenever they are around with her is how her head bobs everywhere once she’s out on the verandah in sun. She’s barely balancing her head right now. It bumps everywhere, but she seems to go wild with it when she’s out.

At moments like these, one takes on the Rousseau view of the Tabula Rasa. I had read about it before. I was watching it working live, in front of my eyes now. The other day I visited my niece and decided to take her out. We randomly just strolled around; She in her awesome pram, me by her side. One stare at her and I dwelled on deep into her world. What was it like for her? Were the concretes making sense to her? Probably not. But her eyes were pretty wide, and she was looking everywhere. As if nothing should be missed. She was gulping images one after the other. All of these would now come up in her dreams in some twisted candy-floss way, I thought.

I stopped for a minute, and her eyes caught a stray dog. And the dog’s eyes caught hers. I being a so called responsible, decided that the dog was not going to come anywhere near her. She was clean baby; The dog, not so much. I moved on, and she glanced away once again, now staring at the sky, wondering I suppose at the clouds. Things must be so simple in her head. She smiled in the process. I had no idea what amused her. But she was staring right at the sky, and smiling to herself. Babies are remarkable; all it takes is a few clouds in the sky to make them smile. But she lost interest sooner than I had the time to click her picture. Her next target was the tree next to her pram. I had settled down on a bench with her next to me. And I saw how she was trying her best to grab the leaves, they were bright green. And she definitely wanted them in her mouth. I made sure to drag her pram a little farther away from the tree. It was when she started making her usual noises (her attempt to speak up, I assumed) that I smiled. She was singing her own personal song in her own individual tune.

And then I saw the dog. He had followed us, all the way to the park and the bench. And my niece had spotted him well before me. So she was cooing to him! He came nearer looking at me (Was he seeking my permission?) and I let him. Till a point of course. What happened next was weird and hilarious at the same time. The dog simply stared at her for a very long time, wagging his tale really fast. And my niece sang to him. I suppose they were discussing some serious life problems while ensuing in a staring match. And then he came to me next. I had nothing on me that he could eat. So I cuddled him a bit. Immediately I used my sanitizer. It was time to go back home. My niece had stopped singing now. She was relishing her thumb determinedly. The Dog followed us all the way home too.

I think my niece made a new friend that day. Someone more animated than the clouds. 

http://www.kissan.in/

[tanban]

[tanban]

[realizes]

"Imagining the future is a kind of nostalgia. (…) You spend your whole life stuck in the labyrinth, thinking about how you’ll escape it one day, and how awesome it will be, and imagining that future keeps you going, but you never do it. You just use the future to escape the present."

— John Green (Looking for Alaska)

[aureat]

[tanban]

The world in your hands :)

[tanban]

Log Kya Kahenge? What will they say?

When you don’t do anything but sit down just to think, or be angry or sad or happy, in one way or the other, you are igniting a thought process that is making you breathe. Sorry, feel I meant. So that when you’ve been barred from doing something you really want to do with an unreasonable retort, you feel angry.

Amidst the anger you start contemplating on the mindset behind the rejection that was not thoughtfully ensued upon your desires. These are people who love you who tell you to “not do it”, so you want to be fair. You wanted to go for a movie. You were rejected on the grounds that the only people coming along were two boys. Now in an Indian society, you being a young adult girl cannot be seen with two boys(who happen to be your friends) at the movies together. Because, “Log kya kahenge”

Now this is not a fact. This does not happen in every Indian household. So all the Non-Indian nationalities with the stereotypical mindset of India= Child Marriage, Snakes and Slumdog Millionaire should not generalize on the above details.

On further dwelling you find how this “Log kya kahenge” system works. The desi parents when go about their daily jobs see groups of young girls and boys laughing and “freaking out” together. Now this scenario (if the desi kid happens to be there) poses a problem. The parents first condemn the scandalous (Have you noticed how loud these kids laugh when with friends?) behavior of these kids. Then comes the attack on their irresponsible Parents. And finally, they start doubting their own kid(you) to be involved in similar antics. So now, due to some people who decided to share an obscene joke really loud and then laughed at it even louder, Your life is bummed.

 After this stage, The “Log kya kahenge” system then takes shape. Your parents are one of the participants who handle a major chunk of responsibility in its working. They form a part of group of those people and ideologies that have never been explained clearly enough to you. Mostly because, when you ask “why”, you get “because this is how it works” or even better “because I said so” as the summarizing answer. Then sooner or later, You are made to shut up (If you dare to continue the one sided discussion, that is)

So after your parents have been established as the “Log jo kehete hai” (People who talk) they then get scared of the other participants of this system, who will now talk about how their (your parent’s) daughter went out with two boys to watch a movie. “How degrading! Why is it degrading? Because this is against our culture. Why is it against it? What is wrong with it? It does not look good. Why? Use your brain. Be a grown up. But I am trying to use it. Tell me What is wrong with it? Please don’t irritate me. You shouldn’t be even watching a movie. You should be studying. Go study. Make yourself a living. Then do whatever you want. So I can go to the movies when I  earn and not now? Yes. Why? Because then you can do as you and your husband like. EXCUSEME? Go study. What my husband likes? When will I do what I like? Please don’t be a drama queen. We’ve given you everything you have ever wanted. Agreed to everything. Do us a favour and get us some decent marks…..

And then this unfortunate discussion snowballs into a concentration of every kind of a defect that you as a child/adult hold. The movie problem is long forgotten and now you’re discussing your poor performance in the previous exams.

At the end of the day, You have mustered the system of “Log kya kaehenge” and as a result understand from where the weird retorts of your parents are coming from. They have been taught like that. You are being taught the same. There are times, when you suddenly realize how you yourself are trapped in your parent’s ideology, when you catch yourself judging at the dressing sense of some random lady wearing weird clothes(according to you) You don’t say it out loud, but you are thinking it. You find your self becoming the “log jo kehete hai” and you stop midway.

But you don’t catch the 50 other people staring at you thinking the same. That cannot be stopped. So keep pondering and looking for answers. It’s a judgmental world. If you know the rules, Do explain J