It will never be okay.

I saw him through the haze, alone, strong and dressed in white, a contrast to the gray of the wall. I walked up to him and then, I saw the grief written on his face, like unmistakable graffiti screaming at me. The urge to hug him and tell him it will all be okay engulfed me. But I felt conservative eyes on me and saw the hesitancy on his face as he held out his hand. I shook it, urging my eyes to convey what I knew he needed to see. “How are you?", I asked and then immediately regretted it. That is not a question you ask at a point like this, I chided myself. He smiled his broken smile and said "I am okay".

He pointed me to a narrow stairs, easily overlooked in the architectural confusion. "Ladies that side" he said, matter of factly. I smiled at him and turned. The dark, dingy, steep stairwell made me claustrophobic. I took a deep breath and walked up.

Multi-colored hues startled me as I reached the top; blue, purple, pink, green and a few expected black. What happened to sober colors, I thought. Wasn’t that the official dress code for events like these? And then the silence screamed at me. Why is it so quiet? Why isn’t anybody crying?

Curious eyes looked up from their prayer books. Somebody grabbed my hand and led me to a room overlooking the main gathering area. The room had no windows and no space to move. Claustrophobia resurfaced. I sat at the edge of a door, my back towards the room, facing the women. Somebody cleared their throat and suddenly there were no more eyes on me. I still felt like an intruder, someone who, so clearly, didn’t belong. The woman next to me picked up a few more date seeds and continued chanting and adding seeds to the pile in front of her.

This is nothing like on television. This is so much more unreal.

Sunlight came down in streams through the gaps in the parapet. It was a hot day. I wish I would have had time to have a proper bath, I thought to myself.

I heard the faint chanting as my ears adjusted and filtered the sounds coming from the neighboring houses; the pressure cooker that was refusing to leave any pressure, the incessant knocking of a door, the children playing and laughing. It was a Sunday in some other world. Over here, there was just grief, palpable and obvious, boring into your soul while you slept, pushing itself into reality while you ignored its existence.

I had never met her, this woman who was loved and revered; who I had heard about always with respect on peoples tongues. I wasn’t there for her. I was there for him. But I never really saw him after that. Just a few flashes of white. I hope he will be okay, I thought, every time I spotted that brilliant color through the gloom.

It was time and everybody moved together like an invisible force was pushing them. They all wanted to see her one last time. The crying started as one by one, they came out from the room where she was laid. I stood in line and waited patiently for my turn, for the others to whom she meant so much more. When I saw her she was wrapped tightly in white. She can’t move! I thought unreasonably. I quietly crept out before my mind took on thoughts I knew it had no place for.

The men came, all in blinding white, to take her to her final resting place. I marveled at their ability to negotiate their way down the narrow stairs I had come up from, all the time making sure she didn’t lose her dignity.

Stories were told by the eyes that were deep in sorrow, wet with fresh tears. She wanted to open a school, I learned. "She was courageous even when she was breathing her last." "She had met Allah much before her body gave up." "She had always lived her life for others."

I left hoping he will be okay. She meant so much to him.

Tomorrow is another day.

The after-Goa Insights

Right, so I am back from another trip to my half-home Goa. Now, don't take me wrong, I love Goa. It is an awesome party place, lots of interesting people and fantastic, picturesque locations to take pictures of and show around to awed friends/colleagues once you come back.

However, being half Goan, I have always seen this other side of Goa, the simpler one; where you draw water from a well, crap in outhouses, run to the beach in the evenings and hang around with a beer at night patiently waiting for dinner. And since I have seen this side of life in Goa, every time I go to Goa just for the express purpose of partying, I always come back wishing I had done it the other way around. Where I could have just done the normal routine thing and then for a couple of nights done the binge drinking, partying scene.

Or maybe I am just getting old.

Anyhoo, I am back, with a tan so bad I now 'look' firmly south Indian; not that I have a problem with it. I drank what seemed like a zillion beers and a few liters of sea water, smoked a gazillion cigarettes, flirted with no body (though got minor crush on a guitarist called Elvis), walked a thousand miles, ate a couple of pigs, a few hundred chickens and a couple of kilos of rice.

By the fifth day, I wanted to go home.  I was tired and sleep deprived, missed my mom, my dog and my bed and just wanted to wear clothes that didn't smell of the sea.

I am old.

Eat, Pray but Dont Love.

I never really liked the book. Maybe because it came so close to home, so many times.  However, I admire the woman for closing the gap between who she was and who she wanted to be; something I haven't been able to achieve, despite striving for it every single day.

Anyhoo, these are some of my favorite passages from the book. Describes the many bad days I have been having lately, all replete with doubts and emotional cutting.

Depression and Loneliness track me down after about ten days in Italy. I am walking through the Villa Borghese one evening after a happy day spent in school, and the sun is setting gold over St Peter's Basilica. I am feeling contented in this romantic scene, even if I am all by myself, while everyone else in the park is either fondling a lover of playing with a laughing child. But I stop to lean against a balustrade and watch the sunset, and I get to thinking a little too much, and then my thinking turns to brooding, and that's when they catch up with me.

They come upon me all silent and menacing like Pinkerton Detectives, and they flank me- Depression on my left, Loneliness on my right. They don't need to show me their badges. I know these guys very well. We've been playing a cat-and-mouse game for years now. Though I admit that I am surprised to meet them in this elegant Italian garden at dusk. This is no place they belong.

I say to them, "How did you find me here? Who told you I had come to Rome?"
Depression, always the wise guy, says, "What- you're not happy to see us?"
"Go away," I tell him.
Loneliness, the more sensitive cop, says "I'm sorry ma'am. But I might have to tail you the whole time you're traveling. It's my assignment."
"I'd really rather you didn't," I tell him, and he shrugs almost apologetically, but only moves closer.

Then they frisk me. They empty my pockets of any joy I had been carrying there. Depression even confiscates my identity; but he always does that. Then Loneliness starts interrogating me, which I dread because it always goes on for hours. He's polite but relentless, and he always trips me up eventually. He asks if I have any reason to be happy that I know of. He asks why I am all by myself tonight, yet again. He asks (though we've been through this line of questioning hundreds of times already) why I can't keep a relationship going, why I ruined my marriage, why I messed things up with David, why I messed things up with every man I've ever been with. He asks me where I was the night I turned thirty, and why things have gone so sour since then. He asks why I can't get my act together, and why I'm not at home living in a nice house and raising nice children like any respectable woman my age should be. He asks why, exactly, I think I deserve a vacation in Rome when I've made such a rubble of my life. He asks me why I think that running away to Italy like a college kid will make me happy. He asks where I think I'll end up on my old age, if I keep living this way.

I walk back home, hoping to shake them, but they keep following me, these two goons. Depression has a firm hand on my shoulder and Loneliness harangues me with his interrogation. I don't even bother eating dinner; I don't want them watching me. I don't want to let them up the stairs to my apartment, either, but I know Depression, and he's got a billy club, so there's no stopping him from coming in if he decides that he wants to.

"It's not fair for you come come here," I tell Depression. "I paid you off already. I served my time back in New York."
But he just gives me that dark smile, settles into my favourite chair, puts his feet on my table and lights a cigar, filling the place with his awful smoke. Loneliness watches and sighs, then climbs into my bed and pulls the covers over himself, fully dressed, shoes and all. He's going to make me sleep with him again tonight, I just know it.

Surviving a Break-Up

So, my relationship is over. And in the weeks that have followed, I have done a lot of introspection, reaching no conclusions per se. However, the break up did make me evaluate a lot of my life, both past and future. The one thing that did make me sit up and take notice were words of a not-so-much-liked public figure, Pooja Bedi. She said, in one of her interviews, "Maybe first loves are meant to be just that, not forever, not everlasting. Just first."

Fortunately this time, the break up is not half as bad as it was last time. Maybe because I knew it was ending long before it actually did. And I was prepared. Or maybe because I knew that I didn't do anything wrong this time. And that always helps in any situation; knowing that you gave it your best and that it was not your fault.

So here is my guide on how to survive a break-up in the hope that somebody, somewhere would read this and it would help them as well.

1. Tell your friends.
2. Get out. Don't stay in and mope and having friends who know your situation always helps in this department
3. Do what you feel like, when you feel like doing it. If you want to scream, shout, abuse, talk, grovel, whatever..do it!! But then, don't regret it later. Always know, you are entitled to feel the way you do.
4. Oh for revenge! It will come though. Wait for it. Don't rush it. And when it does...well, I can only hope right now!!
5. Take time out for yourself. Do the things you always wanted to. For me it is going out with the ladies with alcohol and a whole lot of men-bashing. But whatever takes your fancy should work.
6. I know the nights are the hardest. The previous point helped me in killing the urges I had to call up the guy in question and beg for him to come back. And eventually those urges subsided.
7. Always know that there will be good days and bad days. In this case, being informed is half the battle. Knowing that this is just bad day and this will go away soon, helps in surviving those weak moments.
8. Work! Work! Work! Fortunately for me, being addicted to my work before I got into the relationship helped me more than I can possibly say. It was easy to go back into the same mold and slip into my work post the break up.
9. For some people, getting into another relationship helps. I have done it in the past. But it left a weird empty feeling in me when I did that. My advise is, do it only if the new guy is well aware of the situation and is okay with it. Hurting someone just to get over your hurt is just not right.
10. Give it time. Don't expect miracles. Eventually, this too shall pass!


Life has a way of answering your questions. It takes its own path, but eventually, all what you could possibly want to know, is known. As long as you look at it the right way.

I always wanted to know what it would've been like, had me and him got together again. My question has been answered.

Love and its Illusions

I haven't been in a relationship in a long time because I was in denial about being in love.

The man in question is unquestionably the best man I have ever met. I fell in love with him 5 years back and I, unflinchingly, still am. But being in a relationship with him, as it is with any relationship, has its shares of ups and downs.

The problem is not him, its me and the idealistic way I define love. For me, love is and has always been more of a forever concept and I expect that the person with me would think of it the same way.

I have liked many men in the past, even went to the extent of calling it love, though I was nothing but fooling myself.

So how did I know I was in love with this particular man? The answer lies more in time than anything else. For five years, my feelings for him have not changed. I still feel the same yearning and breathlessness I felt five years back whenever I think of him, even though we have been with other people in the time that we were not together.

We got back together a few months back. For reasons that can only be defined by the love that we shared.

But being in love is very different than being in a relationship.

When you love someone and you are apart from them for a long time, usually there an idea of the other person that forms in your head and you cherish and start loving that idea rather than the person themselves. And when you get back together, reality hits you and you realize that the person standing in front of you is not the idea that you had hoped or longed for, for so long.

What follows can only be defined as an uncomfortable period. Where you hover between realizing that you love the person for who they are or you let go and move on because you realize you can never let go of that illusion and you love it more than the person in question.

For me, quitting is never an option. I have not only loved that idea of the man but I have loved the man more. I don't just love him for the man he is and portrays to the outside world, but also for the man that I know he can be; for the truth that is inside him, the strength that I know makes him the man he is today, the loneliness he never reveals and the smile that can make the world light up.

But then again, I was always in love with him more than he was with me.

We have had more than our share of fights and quibbles where I have lost my famous temper and have become a difficult person to be with. And I will never defend my behavior. I am sure it is, to say the least, tiresome to be with me. And I completely understand why he would be hesitant to be with me now.

If anybody would like to call it anything, this is a test; a test of how much love there is in this relationship, whether our love is enough and how much we can fight for it.

I have never prayed as much as I am praying now.

The One With a Star on my Finger

It all started five years ago when I was trotting across the countryside giving interviews for an admission into a post graduate course. On one fateful day, in a hot, humid city, waiting in a crowded room full of hopeful, nervous chatter, I met the man who would change my life forever. We started a conversation, for the lack of a better pass time, conversation that included the past and hopefully the future. We parted ways that day, thinking we will never see each other again and we didn't keep in touch, except a call that lasted 15 seconds.

Little did I know, that man would make every dream of mine come true and give me the lease of life I needed.

Two years later, we got into a relationship; a whirlwind affair that swept me off my feet and made me feel like the world belonged to us. I breathed, slept, ate, lived through him. And then suddenly, it ended as soon as it began and I was left nursing a broken heart and no will to love again.

9 days and three years later, here I am, back with the man who gave me everything and took away everything. The man who can make the world seem like a dream and love a reality. The man who taught me how to live again, taught me how to laugh and cry, how to feel, how to hope. A man that believed in me like no one else has. A man that shows me the mirror. A man who is, undoubtedly, my soulmate.

And despite everything, the fights, the misunderstandings, the disapproval from the world outside, we are together.

Happy is a word I can relate to now.

Truth Be Told

Prospective No "Hopefully Final" is firmly out of the window and I am so heartbroken, it has taken me close to two months to even start talking about it. The worst part is, I have no idea what I did this time.

Which kind of brings me to the eternal question of "What the fuck do men actually want?"

Now, I've had my share of completely fucked up men in the past. Drug addicts, women beaters, models (you know the type), male ego flag-bearers and such. But at the end of this delightful journey, I have nothing to show; no interesting anecdotes, no helpful advice, nothing. And I think I need to do some serious thinking to help out those gullible, sweet girls, who mistake my promiscuity for a wealth of experience and come to me with questions that I have no answer for.

I am going to try and answer some of their questions here. More answers to come as and when they are posed!

Q1. Why do men run away if you pay attention to them?

Ans - Firstly, getting a mans attention is easy as hell. Act like the girlfriend he has never had, all level headed and sane and completely non-possessive, show a little of you famed cleavage and bam! Hes all eyes!!

Now, keeping their attention is the problem.

A man does not like it when you run after them. And you always have to walk a fine line between ignoring him and Oh-God-I-cannot-breathe-without-his-presence-in-my-life-and-I-want-to-make-him-thousands-of-pretty-babies-that-look-just-like-him.

Now, my reasoning for this is, men share a couple of genomes with dogs. No, no it true!! Let me prove it.

You must have noticed how dogs get most excited when they are chasing something; balls, rabbits, bitches on heat, their own tail? However, keep a ball next to them for too long and they lose interest till you throw it away from them to chase again. Similarly, a man will never be interested in a woman if you show interest in them for too long. Tantalize them with a little interest now and then and they will be faithful and loyal for the rest of the duration of your interest.

Now, I know how hard it is for women to control their urges to pick up the little pooches and shower their love and attention on them. Control those urges!! Go shopping if you must; get a stuffed dog or something!! But keep those loving feelings under wraps!!


Q 2. Why do men always check out other women, regardless of who they are with at the time?

Ans - It’s not your fault if he looks at other women and it’s definitely not because you decided to meet him in your sweats. I would attribute this partly to one of the seven deadly sins, Lust and partly to my earlier answer. Men love the chase and they will check out anything they can’t have. So that hot-assed chica that just walked past is just one of the many women he can lust after but never get. Its not you, it’s definitely him. So relax! And, if you want to test my theory, meet him in your best outfit, looking like a million bucks. He will still look at an average looking woman who has nothing but a good ass.


Q 3. Why are men commitment phobic?

Ans - Men are delusional. Pure and simple. They run screaming from commitment because they always think they can get a woman better than you. Or better still, they think they can beat Don Juan's record and be the king of a country full of hot Brazilian models who he can bed every night. Pah!! Don't worry about it. When men have gone and tried to (unsuccessfully) sow their wild oats, they will realize what complete asses they are! Wait for it, it going to be beautiful!


Now, I know this post is going to invite a lot of ire. Bring it on!

Anon Stuff

Stuff is always happening to me. I am one of those people who can't go through life without having a couple of accidents, getting caught in endless traffic jams, being diagnosed with weird diseases nobody has ever heard of before, either being completely famished for male company or being overriden with it and other such happy situations. There are times when I have to sit down, take off my running shoes and take deep breaths just so I can get back to my senses again.

Here is a lowdown of the last couple of days alone.


1. Nainital - One of my present clients has a hotel in Nainital and we have decided to take a few people up there for an experential visit. And even though I had no intentions of accompanying a bunch of seasoned travel writers for this trip, I have been coerced into going by my boss who I love to death but who can also drive me up some really high walls. So being the optimist that I am and forever trying to see the silver lining in my gray clouds, I have decided to go, taking my sorry little Sony camera along to take lots of pictures; considering I will practically be alone there and will have no-one to banter with. So my itinerary of the trip would look something like this -

• Try not to puke on the way up and down
• Appear to be "all there, all the time"
• Eat. Lots
• Walk. Lots
• Drink. None
• Take lots of pictures

2. My Name is Khan, the movie - I watched it, despite not really wanting to (loving your mother and wanting her happiness at all costs is a bad thing.) So my senses were assailed by Shahrukh Khan in the wee hours of a Sunday morning, well it was 12 in the afternoon actually, but wee hours for me nonetheless. Fortunately for me, the movie wasn't half bad. Although, I totally disagree with Nikhat Kazmi's statement of MNIK being miles ahead of Forrest Gump. I mean, Woman! get a clue will you??

3. Gautam Gambhir is the captain of Delhi Daredevils this year. Wow! I did not see that coming. Suddenly I am regretting spending a whole lot of money on my Delhi Daredevils jersey last year. I cant even use it for any other purpose. Dishrag maybe, but that's it. And I was so looking forward to the IPL and sitting in my watering hole and watching Delhi Daredevils matches on the big screen with a whole lot of beer sloshing around in my stomach. *Sigh*

4. Prospective No. "Hopefully-Final" is hovering around the corner. And I see some serious hope here. I so don't want to eff this up. So I am praying for the strength to not be a complete ass this time. Pray along with me people.

Ova and Out

Hi. I am Naal, and I am an Alcoholic

Or at least I think I am.

How do you define an alcoholic?

1. Crave for alcohol everyday. Check.
2. If don't get alcohol on a particular day, break open a bottle at home and drink alone. Check.
3. Have had more than four types of alcohol in one night. Check.
4. After a night full of alcohol, need more alcohol after dinner. Check.
5. Have alcohol more than twice a week. Check.
6. Have been in at least one accident involving drunk driving. Check.
7. Still drive drunk. Check.

The only characteristics that differentiate me from a standard definition of an alcoholic is that I don't get up in the morning and crave for a drink (unless, of course, I am on holiday in Goa).

My association with alcohol started a long time ago. Being from a part Goan, Army background, there was never any dearth of alcohol in my house. Bottles of wine, rum, vodka and beer were always present in the tiny bar at home. Alcohol flowed freely at family functions and you were supposed to taste champagne even if you didn't want to.

But all this never contributed to my obsession with the drink till some time ago. I was always someone who got one drink at parties and stuck with it throughout the night. I loved a good rum and coke occasionally, but generally stayed away from heavy duty drinks. Recently, however, I have seen a change in me that can put Nicolas Cage in Leaving Las Vegas to shame.

I get the urge to drink every evening. If I don't get to drink on a particular evening, I get up the next morning all cranky and ready to bite someone head off. Sometimes at night when I cant sleep and my thoughts threaten to overpower me, I have to get up and make myself a couple of drinks which I gulp down in one go. Every get together with friends and family revolves around alcohol. If I cant get any of the hard drinks, a couple of beers are a must. I have driven drunk sometimes, so drunk that I cant remember how I reached home. I don't even remember getting into my car or the road and stop signs on the way home. I have seen numerous accidents involving drunk driving, even been in one.

I am happy, I drink. I am sad, I drink. I hate myself, I drink. I love myself, I drink.


I love alcohol and I think I am in trouble because of it.

Warring Words

In my pursuit of balance, I had completely lost track of my blog. I remembered this poor-mans version of a counseling session today, when I am down with the flu replete with a runny nose, burning eyes, headache, sore throat and lots and lots of flem!

When I look back at the last few months, they have been the happiest because of a complete lack of events in my life. I plodded on regardless of who was dating who and who lost their job and who is getting married and who is ignoring their so called best friend for the last couple of months. And I was happier because of it.

I have been single for close to three years now despite being in love. Which makes me want to stand up and applaud myself. I am no longer the sniveling little pumpkin full of low self esteem and desperate for human companionship. I am the happiest at the end of the day, cozied up in my room, in my PJ's reading a book or watching the crappiest movie on television. And now I can, finally, totally pass judgment of people who are constantly in and out of relationships. Yeah, I do get lonely sometimes and crave for attention which is when I call up one of my many friends (you know, the ones that you keep on the side like french fries. nibbling on them only when you feel like but usually letting them go cold??). Or if worst comes to worst, I light myself a cigarette and plot ways to kill people who I love but don't love me back.

I loved my new year. I sat in bed with a close friend, ate pizza, watched scary romantic comedies, drank rum and slept at a decent hour of 2. I got up the next morning and played house for my friend, made him breakfast, screamed at him for not having a shower and generally scared my self silly cause I think I am totally ready for domesticity.

My best friend is in an awesome relationship. A little too co-dependent for me but who am I to judge them. The guy is sweet, cute, caring and all that and I think they would be awesome together as long as they work their little issues out.

I went back to music. I had actually lost out a lot of beautiful music cause it reminded me of days when I wasn't myself. I am back though and even though it is a rocky relationship, its so goddamn worth it.

Things are so much better with my family. Everybody is happy giving each other space to live their life, barring a few issues with my father who keeps thinking he get premonitions that my brother and his family need him to be with them when in fact they couldn't hope to be farther away and that causes a little problem which eventually gets sorted. I am the aunt of a beautiful little baby boy and even though he looked like a little monkey when he was born, he has grown into a really cute little goon complete with hooliganism and destruction of property.

So all in all, things are going fine and I think this is the first time that I would be blogging on things going well rather than my usual rants and raves.

This is so much better. I am no longer at war with my words.

No, not really.

I haven't written in ages. And its not because I have abandoned this entire cathartic exercise of mine. Its just that I have started looking at my blog differently. It used to be about exorcising my demons and totally raving and ranting till the cows come home. But somewhere, over the last one year, I started blogging because I wanted to get certain things noticed; make my little change in the world; spread the light and so on.

And frankly speaking, I haven't really found anything which I could think of that would change the world. Nothing bad (or good), no injustice, no justice, nothing (I don't think I would make a good social activist). And I didn't want to be one of those people who write just for the sake of it. If I wanted to do that, I would keep a diary.

And so, I haven't written.

But what I do want to do today, is to wish myself Happy Birthday. I didn't realise that I have been writing for a year now. So much has changed, no? Anyhoo, Happy Birthday to myself! Here's to self awareness and balance.

Cheers!

Issues with a Jaded Humanity

I had the weirdest experience today which made me think of how I have changed over the last couple of years.

I usually don't hesitate to help someone in need; helping a blind person cross the road, pick up shopping bags of old people, give a beggar some water on a hot Delhi summers day etc.

But today, for some reason I hesitated. I was standing at the red light and there was a person in an SUV who wanted to turn into my road (one of those slope-y curvy roads). Because he was driving such a huge car, and because the road was turning and sloping at the same time, he couldn't really see the road right before him, the way a person who is driving a relatively smaller car could have. He went into a pothole and stopped. Probably because he wasn't sure of what he was getting into. He looked at me and raised his eyebrow. Now, ideally, I should have told him that its just a pothole and he should carry on. But I stared right back at him and didn't say anything. He raised the other eyebrow. I frowned. He gestured with his hand. I took out my sunglasses and wore them. He rolled down the window. I looked away.

The light turned green and I sped of.

I don't know why I didn't help him but I can safely say I am jaded. I don't care about people who drive SUV's and live in big houses. I kept thinking, if I was stuck like that, would he have helped me? Later on, when I thought about it again, he probably would have.


So why have we all become like this.

A couple of days ago, I was with my colleague in an auto. A little girl came to us to sell pencils. 2 for 10 bucks. I didn't buy any because I have bought so many pencils from girls like her, the dashboard in my car has about 20 of them. She then saw that we had a bottle of water and she asked us for some. My colleague said no cause she would probably need the water later. I took the bottle and gave the little girl some water.

What has happened to our conscience? Have we just lost it in search of a better, richer life? Or is it just that we have been treated by other humans as meaningless, lifeless beings for so long, we just don't care any more?

Not Blocked

I am not suffering from writers block. I just don't have anything interesting to write about.

Except to bring to light a horrid experience I had on the only day it rained like crazy in Delhi. I had to wade through thigh deep water and had to beg someone to repair my tyre puncture.

And I learnt that, despite the fact that I survived the entire experience, I may not be as strong as I thought I was. (I cried like a baby when I found out about my tyre.)

Gay and loving it!

No, I am not gay.

But if I wanted to be, nothing would have stopped me. Everyone who supports Free Expression and Secularism and everything that's good and free in this world, would, in all probability, also exult in this landmark judgment of the High Court, abolishing some portions of Section 377 of the Indian Penal Code and making homosexuality a legal phenomenon.

Not that it would stop prison rape from The Sisters like in The Shawshank Redemption.

I once knew a man who had been gangraped by men when he was very young. But thats a different story altogether.

Maha Maya's Maha Muddle!

Thank God!! Someone is doing something about this!

Domestic Violence and the Human Psyche

Even though I have grown up surrounded by women who define women empowerment, I and many other women have been subjected to domestic violence, whether physical or emotional.

Wikipedia defines Domestic Violence as :

Domestic violence (also known as domestic abuse, spousal abuse, or intimate partner violence) occurs when a family member, partner or ex-partner attempts to physically or psychologically dominate another. Domestic violence often refers to violence between spouses, or spousal abuse but can also include cohabitants and non-married intimate partners. Domestic violence occurs in all cultures; people of all races, ethnicities, religions, sexes and classes can be perpetrators of domestic violence. Domestic violence is perpetrated by both men and women.

Domestic violence has many forms, including physical violence, sexual abuse, emotional abuse, intimidation, economic deprivation and threats of violence. Violence can be criminal and includes physical assault (hitting, pushing, shoving, etc.), sexual abuse (unwanted or forced sexual activity), and stalking. Although emotional, psychological and financial abuse are not criminal behaviors in some legal systems, they are forms of abuse and can lead to criminal violence.


I have a different definition of it.

When a person has absolutely zero respect for you, your family and friends and has serious emotional problems, they indulge in a little "violence therapy" to feel better about themselves. Unfortunately domestic violence isn't domestic violence unless committed by someone you know and are considerably close to. Everyone cringes when they watch a movie which shows domestic violence in all its gross glory. Zeenat Aman went through years of domestic violence from her then husband Sanjay Khan. Aishwarya Rai tried to bring domestic violence to light in "Provoked", Jennifer Lopez in "Enough" and I am sure everyone must have at least seen the picture of a battered Rihanna that hit the news recently.


So why does a person endure such torture and still stay?

I am sure everyone has different reasons ranging from children, financials and then there are the other kinds. The ones who just don't know any better, like me.

I went through an incident of domestic violence 6 years ago. I had just started a relationship with an extremely good looking, suave guy in my office. All was good for the first two months. We had our fights but nothing extraordinary till one day I was too tired and walked away from a fight with him. I went to the terrace of my office to have my last smoke of the day. It was quiet 'cause everyone had left except for a few people in the next door cafeteria. I saw him walk out of the cafeteria and on to the terrace. He walked towards me and without warning, hit me so hard on my face that I saw stars. He hit me a couple of more times, abused me and before I could react walked away confidently with me on the ground, trembling and cowering. It didn't end there. Two seconds after he walked away, I felt something warm and liquid-y in my mouth. I felt my face and realised it was covered in blood. It was like a tap had been turned on in my nose. The blood just wouldn't stop.

I knew I needed help, so I somehow got up and walked into the cafeteria. I looked so bad, a woman fainted the moment she saw me. I was rushed to the hospital where I found out the bastard had hit me so hard, it broke a ligament in my nose. I still have problems breathing through one nostril and I need to get surgery done in order to correct it.

I didn't stay in the hospital. I went back to office. I walked right up to the guy, stood in front of him and smiled. There was no way I was going to show that he had broken me.

I stayed in that office and faced him with my head held high, till one day the guy got thrown out because he propositioned another girl to spend a night with him for some rupees. He got beaten up by the girls friends when he was leaving office. Karma at its best!

But for some reason, I never told anyone in office what had actually happened. I just told them I fell. And I will forever curse myself for it. I just couldn't bring it up. I thought it would make me look weak. I know better now.

Whoever faces domestic violence has to hit their own low point to realise that they have to get out. Its an addiction. People who perform these hideous acts, are always so loving and caring and look so guilt ridden afterwards that if you love them you always end up giving them another chance. One of my friends was in a violence-ridden marriage for 10 years. She used to come with bruises on her arm from where he held her and shook her till she almost fainted. She always used to say that her husband was so guilt ridden after he beat her up that she thought there was no way he would do it again. And after some time, she just got used to it. It took her 10 years and another man, who loved her tremendously, to get away and file for divorce.

And, I am not saying domestic violence is restricted to men against women. It can be any form of torture, women to women and even women to men. And its just not right.

I loved the 2008 public service campaign called "Bell Bajao!" encouraging people to stop violence by ringing the doorbell where the act was being committed.

I don't think there is any cure for this and no matter how much the law tries to prevent it, its not going to help. And in any case, if a person just doesn't do it for the fear of being thrown in jail, it not really worth it, is it? Its the psyche of people that needs to be changed and the only way to do that is by education and awareness.

This post is my part in spreading the light.

Hello!!!!!

In an attempt to get to know another prospective groom better and vice vera, I have given my blog url to P5. A first for me!

So heres a big shout out to P5. Welcome!!!....and Enjoy!

Confetti

Anon Issues:


Work Life

Vast improvement. A new CEO has joined and being from my previous workplace, has taken me under her wing. I think I just needed some mollycoddling. Pest control also happened, and my workstation is roach free, well almost..


Delhi's impregnable heat

Rains are no where in sight and the heat has built to an almost exploding point. Delhi reels under 12- 20 hour power cuts and this being the capital of the country. Sheila D, Chief Minister, par excellence. Meh!


P 5

New guy. Not bad. Weird name though. Has a good sense of humor but not very talkative. I think it might work out. Opposites attract after all. At this point, I am ready to try out anything just to keep my mother quiet for a bit.


Michael Jackson

I thought the intern in my office who gave me the news was playing a prank on me till i turned on the Television. I loved MJ. His music was universal. I still remember the time when I used to steal my brothers cassettes just so I could listen to MJ on my walkman. I will miss him. Rest in peace.


Ova and out!

Lose Weight, Dammit!!!

My struggle with weight loss has been on since I reached college and started eating like a pig. And since then, I have experimented with many fad diets including, the General Motors Diet, the Only Veggy diet and the ever -popular, eat-whatever-you-want-till-4 p.m. diet. None of these have worked. I even tried my hand at exercising; going for walks with my mother, joining a gym, dance classes, cycling, everything and my problem is, even if I do end up losing weight, after a few months, I give up and bloat up like a balloon.

Here are 11 signs (reasons, if you will) I have encountered over the years, indicating an urgent need to lose weight:

1. Being rejected ever so often because I didn’t look good or because I was fat or more often than not, the reason given is - "we don’t seem to be compatible enough". Ya right!

2. After you've had a satisfying make-out session, you settle in for the good snuggle with a post-coital cigarette, when suddenly a voice shatters your calm - "You really should lose weight, you know". It has happened to me. A perfect ending to a perfectly good (you thought!!) session!

3. You are climbing up two flights of stairs, and by the time you reach the top, you think you're probably having a coronary. You huff and puff for the next 10 minutes and conveniently blame it on your smoking.

4. You're with a new guy, the weather is at its romantic best and you decide to go for a walk. You're holding hands and enjoying the weather and the company when your boyfriend turns to you and says, "You’re not used to walking, are you? You already have droplets of sweat on your nose. It’s really cute!!!" All this is happening while you’re silently cursing the sweating genes you got from your mother.

5. You're preparing for a night out at the snazziest club in town. You put on your best top, squeeze your bottom into your tightest pair of jeans, wear your sexiest stilettos and reach the venue only to find that your friends look a million times better than you do cause they can wear skimpy clothes and expose their perfectly shaped bodies and all you have to expose is rolls of fat!

6. Black is absolute fav color. Cause it’s just so cool and you’re a rocker chick, aren’t you? Hmph!

7. You really like a guy; you finally muster up the courage to ask him out for drinks, just casual, with friend’s et al. He says yes and you are over the moon. He comes over and you introduce him to all your friends including your good looking and more importantly thin best friend. The guy is so enthralled by your best friend that he completely ignores you the entire evening and focuses all his attention her.

8. The guy in the previous point, strangely keeps asking you out for drinks and/or coffee. You realize it’s only because he knows that the only way he can meet your best-friend is if you come as well.

9. You are hungry and dying to eat the Big Mac burger at Mc D's, but you think twice before you eat in public and the only way you end up eating is when your equally huge and hungry friend eats with you.

10. You go to get your legs waxed and the salon charges you more than they would a normal sized person. Your legs are so huge; they have to use double the amount of wax and effort. I blame this on the hairy genes I got from my father.

11. You are cleaning your closet and you realize that the pair of jeans you kept from your school days, for "motivation", has started smelling musty.


I am going to lose weight!!

Right after I have this last slice of pizza! Oh crap, I am supposed to go out for a business dinner today!!

From tomorrow, I promise!!!

SOS!!

Okay, after a lot of futile deliberation, I have reached a conclusion that I cannot make a simple decision and I need help!

My major problem is that I need to get out, to leave this place for a few weeks and I am confused. Mostly my confusion stems from the fact that I don't know how to go about this and if I leave now, I am basically kicking my career in the balls.

As people know, I just joined my new job and even though I did go and travel over the weekend, I didn't get the break that I thought I would and that need is growing almost every minute, till I am almost screaming in muted agony by the end of a day. My conundrum has multiple facets and I will try and list all of them down:

1. I need a break, now!! And it cant be just a couple of days break, it has to be good couple of weeks, to a month.
2. I have just joined a new job and I couldn't possible leave 4 days into it.
3. My old job people want me back and I can negotiate a month off, if I do decide to join back
4. My old job people can offer me a similar post etc but the work there will suck comparatively to this one
5. The salary is awesome here, the work is less and more intellectual and so on, plus I am like the second-most senior person in this place but that's mostly cause its such a small company.
6. I have already tried to negotiate my holiday in this company; the problem being that the current CEO is leaving and a new one is coming in, and the new CEO will decide on my break which will be in another month and not before that
7. I cant leave before end of June, cause of family stuff
8. My break will consist of me going to the place I love and staying there with interesting people, mostly travellers, and the thought of that is making my life here, even more miserable!!!

I don't know what to do, should I go back to my old job, or stay in this one? Should I negotiate my break here or there? I don't know and I am desperate for advice, any advice!

HELP!!!