The Night and Day and Night and Day and Night of Unfairness and Terror

I had just gotten up to a beautiful winter morning, all charged up to go to work with a vague memory of watching the news before I slept, the news of gunfire at the Leopold Cafe in Mumbai. All it did that time, was evoke fond memories of a good meal at the cafe I had had a few years ago.

All the feelings of general well being vanished into the morning fog when I saw the front page of the Times of India. While I slept, an entire city had erupted into terror. Images of a young man, carrying an AK 47, bag slung around his shoulders, eyes filled with anger and hatred is how I will always remember that morning and the day that ensued.

I have seen a lot in the last few years, as has everyone else my age. 9/11, the attack on parliament, serial bomb blasts across the country, the Gujrat riots; I thought I had seen it all. And through all of this, not once did I feel that India was an unsafe country, a country where you need to look over your shoulder. But today, almost 36 hours since the first reports of the attack on Mumbai came in, I am scared. Not about my life, but about the millions of harmless, innocent people who have been targeted by these factions of terror.

What hits me the most is the unfairness of it all. Why?? Just that one word is enough to stump anybody. I don't blame Islam or any other religion for this attack. No religion is perfect. Even Christianity and Buddhism had their bloody pasts. So why target only one religion? Just because through history and time they have proved to be the most vocal? Yes, it is wrong, this attack. But I blame other groups for it.

This attack was a complete failure of Intelligence of the country. Why did the state government take so much time to call in the NSG and Army? When did the lives of people become more of a question of ego than anything else? Did the Maharashtra police seriously think they could have handled such a well planned, motivated attack? Where was RAW during all this; all throughout the planning stages of this mission? It seems to be that the ISI is more active in insurgencies, espionage and training terrorists than the RAW is even capable of. Obviously it took a lot of resources, time, money and such for the attack to attain such gigantic proportions. Did RAW or ATS or even the Maharashtra state Police not even get a whiff of the plan? Or where they too busy trying to pacify Mr. Thackeray?

As I watch images of helicopters hovering over Nariman House in Mumbai, I want people like Raj Thackeray to sit up and take notice. This is your city. The city you so desperately wanted to protect from "North Indians". Now what Mr. Thackeray? Why aren't you doing anything for your city or have you become as helpless as the rest of us? Cant you see that the NSG commandoes that are trying to save the citizens of your city, are from all over the country including North India? They will go and risk their life for your city, and you cant even spend a week in jail for it?

I think its time we bring the larger issue into perspective. This is our country. The people in this country are ours regardless of caste, religion and state. And unless we erase the invisible lines we have drawn around us, we will always have people from "the neighbouring country" penetrate our security and enter our peaceful land. Its time we stood, as one!!!


This one is for all those people who have given their lives for the peace of this country......May you rest in peace.

Jai Hind!!!

P.S. The attack lasted for 59 hours and claimed 187 lives (official figures). I hope it has finally awakened our lackadaisical country into action.

another one bites the dust

This ones for you. You know who you are!!!

I have realised, I am one of those people who have an opinion on everything. And even though it tends to irritate certain people when I give my unsolicited opinion to them, I endeavour to carry on regardless of the hurdles.


So, the marriage season is here. And one by one, well meaning but disillusioned adults fall prey to the not-so-utopian world of wedding bliss. One of my friends being one of them.

It was the event of the year, B's wedding. Poor guy!! I pity him. A couple of years later he would probably be one of those guys whose heads were chomped off by the female praying mantis!!

Anyhoo, back to the wedding. It wasn't something I was planning to attend, me being one of those people who hate to dress up and hold the constant I-swear-I-have-a-boyfriend-and-my-marriage-is-round-the-corner expression. But, B being one of my close friends and at the constant behest of my other friends, I decided to go.

Now, if you have been to a friends marriage, which you probably have, if you are my age, the question of "what are you planning to wear??" start doing the rounds about a week before the grand event.

So goes the conversation on one of these days -

ring ring

S: Hello
Naal: So what are you wearing?
S: For??
Naal: For the wedding, of course!!
S: Saree I guess
Naal: Okay, I will wear one too...

30 seconds of uncomfortable silence

Naal: But it would be so uncomfortable and weird and what if it dismantles when I get off the car or something??!!!
S: So don't wear one...
Naal : But if you are going in one, it would be really weird if I didn't.
S: So wear one!! Dammit!!
Naal: Wait, let me call Anch and see

ring ring

Anch: Hello
Naal: What you wearing for B's wedding?
Anch: Saree
Naal: Okay!! Bye!!

ring ring

S: Ya
Naal: I am wearing a Saree....

And so, I decided to wear one. And then, panic!! "I have to get a blouse stitched. Oh my god! Its wedding season, What if I don't get it back in time? What will I do then??" A hurried trip to the tailors later, I was a happy camper. But the panic didn't stop there. "What earrings do I wear? What shoes would go with the Saree? Should I wear the pointy heeled, sparkly ones that are oh-so-sexy or the sensible ones so I can remain standing without pain, for the duration of my stay??" After a lot of deliberation I finally decided on all the peripheries and went bangle shopping.

(By this time I have managed to destroy whatever shred of respect I had in the readers mind. Am I right?? And if you had any sense left you would stop reading right now.

For those readers who have decided to risk it, here goes... )

So, we finally reach the wedding. Me looking absolutely smashing in the Saree and the pointy heels, which I decided to wear, and coordinated bangles et al, or at least that's what I thought till I looked at how sexy all of my other friends looked (sob sob). Plus, I froze!! The wedding was at a lawn next to an abandoned airstrip and there was a really cold wind blowing and I realised that the ground was all wet cause of dew and my pointy heels became a nuisance cause they kept digging into the soft ground and I had to make double the effort to walk or stand without losing my shoe to the lawn. It was like quicksand, I tell you!!!

One question, aren't brides supposed to look all bright, happy and cheerful like a light had been lit inside her or something like that. In this case however, the bride looked like she just swallowed a really bad tasting turd (Is there any other kind?). I mean, B isn't half bad, for a friend that is. As a husband I can only assume. And its not like she was forced to marry him. It was a love marriage for gods sake! She didn't look that nice either. I spotted like, 10 women at the wedding who looked better that her, me included. (Ya okay, I went a little bit overboard with that. I think I should stop. What if she read my blog and forbade B from meeting me for the rest of my life. That would be sad, wouldn't it??)

You know how there is always this one guy at a wedding, who drinks to much and becomes loud and overbearing. Usually, I just stand around and watch the show unfold. Unfortunately, this time, that guy was one of my friends and not only did he become loud and overbearing, he also fell in love with a married, voluptuous cousin of B's. No offense though. She was pretty though, in a my-saree-doesn't-really-go-around-my-breasts-way. After being thwarted by the cousin and dissuaded by B's brother, my friend turned his attention to a sweet, old lady and proceeded to talk emphatically about the bad habits of catholics or something to that effect (he's just broken up with his catholic girlfriend) only to be told later that the sweet, old lady was actually a Catholic, sweet old lady. What fun!! He immediately insisted on apologising to the lady. Obviously that wasn't going to happen. Not on our watch at least. He spent the rest of the evening under the our hawk-like gaze. I mean, the guy couldn't even take a leak without one of our friends accompanying him to the loo...

All in all, it wasn't half bad. We were allowed to smoke and drink in full view of the relatives and guests just as long as we didn't do it inside the venue. The food was okay too, whatever we got at least (by the time we ate, the rest of the guests were either at dessert or coffee or the post-meal smoke). I did end up hogging two, read T-W-O, plates of jalebi. By the time I sat in the car to go home, I was feeling sick and yet, ready to bitch about everyone and anyone who caught my fancy. Weddings are fun!!! Cant wait till the next one.....

A sacrifice for ignorance

Theres always something in the way.

Theres always something gettting through.

Its not me, its you.

Its you.

*****

Sometimes ignorance reads true.

Hope is not in what I know.

Its not in me, its in you.

Its in you.

*****

Its all I know.

*****

I find peace when I am confused.

I find hope when I am let down.

Not in me, in you.

Its in you.

*****

Hope to lose myself for good.

I hope to find it in the end.

Not in me, in you.

In you.

*****

Theres always something in the way.

Theres always something getting through.

Its not me. Its you.

******************************************

You
by Switchfoot

The one with a great man

Even though a majority of Indian Citizens wouldnt know Obama's agenda for India, and still exult in his win, it was more of a victory of good over evil, so to speak. All those people who saw movies like Deep Impact where an african-american played the President of the United States and scoffed at the idea of such an unlikely event; it was as if America itself was proven wrong.

Whatever said and done, Obama seems to be a great man; someone who embodies the spirit of a nation. He seems to have gone through what everyone does at one time or another in their life; prejudices, family strife, drug abuse and such; and emerged stronger because of it.

However, Obama's journey has just begun. I can envision him sitting in the Oval Office in the wee hours of the morning, alone and tired, bent over a bill that prevents african- americans or muslims from carrying ammunition or something like that, knowing that whatever he decides he would recieve flak for it.

For me, personally, just his victory is enough for history to remember him forever.

Change we need and change we got!

(A)men

What is it with men? Why do they always have to take each thing and analyse and analyse and then finally over analyse it. "Why did she say that? Was he trying to prove something? Why do women have to complain so much? Why is she touching my arm? " I mean, seriously, get a life!!!

Not everything that happens in the world has to have a reason behind it. We hold your arm cause we wanted to. We don't complain, we just voice our thoughts. We said it cause we wanted to say it....simple!! There is no underlying reason here. There is no conspiracy to burst your overly inflated ego. There is no weird, complicated thought process that goes into reaching out and touching your arm and yes! just cause we touched your arm does not mean we want to have sex, u jackass!! So, at the risk of offending my male friends and readers I would like to make a few things very clear (crystal if possible):

1. We always know when you scratch your balls, even when you are just thinking about it. Women are very intuitive that way.

2. We always know when you are looking at us or analysing our fat bottoms (or the lack of it). Again, an example of our intuitiveness

3. We don't always think about sex; you do (studies have proven it to be so). So, the next time we hold your arm or kiss you; that's it, that's all we want. Nothing more. Unless, we take it further.

4. You don't always need to hold you stomach in or flex your arms when you see us. Its okay if you have a few imperfections. We like it that way.

5. WE DON'T LIKE THE SMELL OF STALE SWEAT!! Buy a deodorant, will you!! And while you are buying one, have a shower too!

6. When we talk about our problems, we usually don't want you to give us suggestions on how to solve it. We just want you to hear us out. We are perfectly capable of solving our problems ourselves (unless asked otherwise).

7. When we decorate the house with fluffy pillows and such, its not cause we are trying to feminise you. We have been surrounded by such stuff since we were born. We just like it that way

8. Sometimes, we like just to hold hands.

9. We do like to be treated like little princesses (well.. sometimes). At other times we want to be treated like equally competent adults. You better take those mind reading classes now!!

10. We eat smaller portions than you (at least in public) and we don't appreciate it if you comment on that. If we wanted to hog, we would have gotten our (equally hog-like) best friends along and not you.

11. We like men who can hold their drinks and not men who start grabbing and groping after a few sips of lager.

12. Cant you, for once, see a girly movie?? I mean, does it always have to be the latest Arnold, Sylvester, Bruce Willis?? We like those movies too. But can't you come with us for a good 'ole romantic comedy and hold us and pat our shoulders while we bawl our hearts out?

13. Don't test our knowledge (latest Sly movie, exact distance between earth and mars and so on)and laugh/shake head/grin smugly/sigh if we cant answer the question. Do you know which is the next Meg Ryan movie?? No??? Then??

14. Tip the bloody waiter!! The last thing we need to know is how effing miserly you are.

15. Let us pay half of the bill. Please, it would be our pleasure and I am sure it wouldn't hurt....right???

16. We love cooking, as long as you clean up afterwards.

17. Respect our parents. For that matter, respect your own while you are at it.

18. If you let us keep our personal space, we will let you keep yours.

19. Whoever said the world was round was stark, raving mad!! The world is flat, like a table and if you go too far away from us, you will fall off from the earth and float endlessly in space.

20. And finally, a lady never rants or raves. She speaks her mind!!


Disclaimer (I seem to put in a lot of these) - These are just the views of me and the women I know. But men can use their own judgement (I hope!!)

Tire Swing
by Kimya Dawson

Joey never met a bike that he didn't wanna ride
and I never met a Toby that I didn't like
Scotty liked all of the books that I recommended
even if he didn't I wouldn't be offended

Later!!

with stars in my eyes

Jugular Vein, Times of India
Sunday, 2nd October, 2008

Looking back, you'd wonder what the hurry was at that time. Trouble was, ‘at that time' wasn't ‘at that time' at that time. It was right then. And right then he was in a hurry. And all the bloody relatives didn't help. The flat was full of them. A droll assortment of uncles; anthologies of aunts, each with stories about things he'd said or done when he was ever so little, and look at him now, all grown up, on this big day; a slyness of cousins in murmured conspiracies.

What was it that they were whispering about anyway, silly grins on their faces? He didn't have to ask. He knew. It was him. Now and then one would call out to him, amidst much laughter, to come and join them. But he couldn't. He was too tightly wound up, a watch-spring coiled too often, all that morning, the past week, the past month, ever since the date had been fixed. Time had become fitful, a fickle fever that came and went. Sometimes minutes, hours, days sped by, skittering out of sight. Other times, seconds crawled like ants on sweaty skin.

He went to see if he could hurry up lunch. He wasn't hungry himself, hadn't been for days, appetite too slow to catch up with the haste he was in. But all the guests had to be fed before they could set off. And a suspicion told him that getting them fed wasn't going to be easy. It wasn't. Lunch wasn't ready. It wouldn't be ready for an hour. What was his hurry, anyway? Loud chuckles. Uncles, aunts, cousins, even the maharaj, hired for the occasion, loin-clothed, sacred-threaded, so thin after a lifetime of cooking for others that you could count every finger of your hands on his ribs.

Finally they sat for lunch, men in one room, women in the other, seated on wooden patlas on the floor, thalis in front of them, the old maharaj stooping and bobbing to serve each one, a stork in quicksand. Everything seemed in slow motion. Finally he pushed aside his half-finished thali and announced he was going to change; he didn't want to be late; 3 o'clock was the appointed time. Don't worry, she won't run away; she'll wait for you, a cousin rallied. Uncles guffawed and aunts smirked. He got changed and returned; they were still eating, prolonging it.

All right; I'll go on my own, he said, and went down to the car. Holy shit. The car. Ribbons, balloons, flowers. It looked like a Diwali hamper on wheels. Take them off, he told the driver. Can't; your uncles put them there, sniggered the driver. Let's go, said the man in a hurry, cursing his inability to drive. Can't, repeated the driver. You have to wait for the others; you can't go on your own. If you don't start the car, you're sacked, said the hurry man. The sound of the engine brought everyone down in a gratifying rush.

The cavalcade started. Traffic was light, the distance short. They reached at five to three. Relief flooded him. He'd made it. He was on time. He wasn't. He was at least an hour too early. Traditionally, the man always arrives late, to make the other side wait. So the other side is never ready by the official time. From behind the closed door, muted shrieks. Ohmigod, he's here already! How could he be? He's not supposed to be here till at least 4! Surrounded by querulous uncles and told-you-so cousins, he stood there on the landing, stiff and stranded in his brand new silk achkan, feeling like the biggest idiot on earth and happy to be so, till, at last, the door opened. It was 3.30.

Last month, it was 40 years to that day. Why were you in such a hurry? asks Bunny. Seems silly now, she adds. Not at all; it's given me a 30-minute bonus added to those 40 years, I reply.

Man in a Hurry
By Jug Suraiya

(Where have men like this gone??Or is it just me??? bah!!)