Almost 28 years of being around...

Two more days and I shall be completing 28 years of being born. This year, I want to have a wish list for my birthday. For what I want my life to be like in the coming years. At least a couple of years. Because I am sure, two years down the line, I will be posting a note titled: "It's all downhill from here. :( " 

Will cross that depressing bridge when it comes. As of today, there isn't just one wish that I will make when blowing the candles on my birthday cake on August 21. :) I know someone up there loves me, and as they say, all you have to do is ask. So here it goes!

Putting my interests first.

• I need to understand that my own interests deserve to be taken care of as much as others'. I wish I can do that and gift myself a better life. 

Pleasant surprises.

• I wished for life to surprise me a lot last time. I need to be more specific. I wish life throws some pleasant surprises my way. 

I wish the losers stop finding me.

• Yes, God was watching a cheesy chick flick when he was working on the ideas around my love life. And yes, He snoozed around the part where the lady finds her Mr. Right after dealing with a string of wrong ones. I shall cut Him some slack and make my peace with the fact that the Mr. Right for me doesn't exist to be found. But then, I want the idiots to stop happening to me. I can do without them. So God, be cool. No more sending the stinkers my way. 

Dance, music, life.

• Listening to soundtracks that take me to another world, singing the songs close to my heart, learning various dance forms, or just getting up and dancing all my problems away to my favorite songs. I wish this passion and the spirit continues. 

Words, expressions, feelings. 

• Be it coming across beautifully written words that change my world in a moment or finding the right ones to express myself when I need them the most, I hope words continue being my close friends as always.

Meet new people.

• I wish I can keep meeting new people all the time who keep bringing fresh perspectives and newer horizons for my thoughts to grow.

Closures.

• I want answers. And I want closures. 

The last point also gives a closure to this list. I hope for good times ahead. :)

Words.

I am a person of words. I am the most expressive person you might ever come across. My friends, my family members, or simply people I grow even a little fond of, know this. I express. Even when in my most basic elements, I am the one who always has  the most appropriate things to say. I never fail words. Words never fail me.

And yet, I have this strange relationship with expressions and words where I feel they restrict me and my universe. Every time I tried telling it out, using words...to someone, I knew it got a little artificial. I molded the words for someone else.  Knowing that someone else is going to read or listen to those words or expressions, I did restructure it multiple times in my head. It's a transaction, at the end. That's why, it's not completely honest.

Your real feelings aren't reflected in the spoken words, the expressed feelings and the public posts. If you want to check what you've really wanted to say, or have wished for...go and read those email drafts that you never finished, those posts you never published, those messages you never sent, those letters you never posted. Those are the things you actually wanted from life. Those are the times when you felt so overwhelmed with emotions and their resulting effects, that it scared you. Words failed you every time you felt the strongest of emotions. Your real life story lies there, hidden in between those unspoken lines.

Few of us out there experienced the magic where the stuff they couldn't muster the courage to speak out, got heard or understood. I have come to know of a few fairy tales. I think, they are extremely lucky souls. I hear they are very happy.

Being a a poet is not a hobby. It's not something you pursue for passing away your time. You don't play with words so that they rhyme and look fancy. You don't make up lines to get an audience. Unlike any other art, being a writer or rather a poet, is just not in your hands.

Being a poet is a condition. A very serious one at that. 

Watch as it leaves

When you have something very precious, something beyond you ever imagined you could have, you want to keep it. Not being able to imagine yourself without it, you become possessive, insecure, vulnerable and protective. You put in a lot of efforts and never  feel how much of yourself you're giving away to let that thing stay in your life.

Till the time, of course when it starts to feel that you're trying too hard to keep it in your life. This moment, decides it all. This is where you realize all of your efforts are just to delay that "exit" a bit longer. It's going to happen anyway.

Same as holding sand in your fist. The more you try to hold it tight in that fist, the more it slips away. Because it was never meant to stay in your hands forever. You took it from the grounds and tried holding it in your fist. It's not that little amount of sand's mistake that it wants to slip away.

Decide whether you want to let it go yourself, or want to wait till it slips from in between your fingers.

Sometimes it feels life is nothing but a struggle to learn the art of letting go.

On that big black dot.

I was walking down the street just below my apartment last evening. When I spotted a cyclist, a guy aged around 32-34 speeding fast on the road, towards me. A few seconds before he could pass by me, I noticed he extended his left hand. Yes. My common sense told me he was planning to touch me and then flee from the scene in a jiffy before I could gather what happened to  me. So before he reached me, I ducked. He was taken  by surprise and tried harder to reach me, slowed down, drifted off balance a little and even called out a filthy word for me. That was more than I could take. In an impulse reaction I punched his body, that very second. He fell off his cycle. I reached him and kicked him once more right in his tummy. With super pointed, high heels. He yelled out in pain. All of this happened within 15-20 seconds I think. The auto drivers who were standing there gathered around me.  He started apologizing. The auto drivers started beating him up. And calling names in return. I actually left the scene without letting anyone know. Somehow I was okay about having punched him and kicked him for the brazen attempt of his. People  might not like it that I didn't call the police, specially with the way everyone just wants to hang anyone who dares to touch a woman. But somehow I just didn't feel the need at that  moment. I don't say he might never repeat the incident with someone else. But he did learn a lesson that he can't always get away with doing something like this. A girl can actually turn back and injure him. (And that high, pointed heels aren't just the objects that makes me look like a doll. They can inflict real pain.)

I was just walking down a street, on my way home, without a guy next to me, in my office attire, at around 8 pm on a busy Mumbai street. I didn't provoke him. He went for the sport and fun anyway. 

This incident did provoke me though. It made me want to finally vent out. Because the scenario frustrates me.  This hue and cry around the "treatment towards women". I am fed up of listening to news channels creating hype around it. I totally understand the fury of those women out there who are protesting, though. I know they want to express their frustration in their own way, perhaps. That barbarian crime was beyond anything I could imagine happening to a person. It triggered reactions. And the law and order set up needs to be challenged. Government needs to be woken up. It required revolts and questions. But in totality, whatever is happening today, the blame games, the observation on which politician said what about rape, I feel it's only creating more noise, nothing else. It frustrates me. I can explain why.  

In my journey till date as a woman, I have come face to face with the mentality that shapes this patriarchal society. Found people who believed education ruins women. They should just be married off at an early age so that they can they can stay "controlled". I also met a guy, a so called educated guy who told me once how it wasn't okay with him that his present girl friend had had a relationship earlier in life whereas he never had any. And you know, it's actually opposing the norms of the society where in fact it's okay if the guy has a relationship history, but a woman generally is judged if she does. I remember the time when my class mates started rumors about my ass-licking (and other) abilities, when I topped my class. Because you know, that's the only explanation for a woman being a topper. I have faced times when I was judged because I sat with a few friends of mine in a restaurant who ordered alcohol for themselves. THEY had alcohol. I didn't. I just sat with them, that too for 15-20 minutes. Because I had to wait for another friend of mine to go shopping with. And I felt it was better to wait in a restaurant with my other friends instead of waiting outside all alone. There was an uproar around this episode in my circle. I was suddenly the "wrong" type. A woman who didn't mind spending 20 minutes with guys who were her friends,  and were having alcohol in a restaurant in broad day light. I am a friendly, outgoing, independent girl. You know what that means, right? It's not practically possible for me to have remained "untouched" till now. Yes. That's exactly what most of them think about girls who are capable of standing their ground or are of brash, extrovert, frank nature. Dignity and outgoing nature don't go hand in hand, in this society. That's only a rough outline of the sick attitude I witness all the time. 

Women are considered as things most of the times. I am not even exaggerating. Because whistling at women is fun. The idea of teasing is fun. The idea of calling out names is fun. I remember my own friends in college days who would manoeuvre through the navratri ground just waiting for the chance for an occasional boob press by catching a fellow woman garba player off guard amidst the chaos and rush. "Maal", "Item" are words that exist in a day to day language by one and all. The worst expletives include the reference to ones mothers and sisters. Then why the surprise when a few people out there have openly told what can only be passed as the reality of this society. That's how we all think. 

Also, very importantly, why only blame men. Is it just their fault that their mentality is rotten beyond repair? Who exactly is a boy most influenced with when he is growing up? His mother. A son respects his mother the most in this world and puts her word above all. So who has the power to instill the best of principles in him? Yes, most of the patriarchal and the "MCP" attitude is also flown down through generations by the women of the family themselves. So let's not become that blind sighted by the outrage everywhere that we forget how we ourselves are responsible for the outcome we face today. If you don't get my point, just for a second out there, imagine a man. Let me tell you his characteristics. 

He is gentle, he is soft spoken. Believes in tackling issues sensibly instead of getting all temperamental. Doesn't really participate in his fellow mates' activities like eve teasing or talking dirty about female co-workers or flirting with them. Doesn't use lewd language. Is really calm and compassionate to his wife and doesn't believe in dominating her, treats her very nicely. Believes in equality of men and women and follows it too. Can actually well up when he is emotional and overwhelmed. Willingly lends his hand in house hold work and helps his wife/mother in the same. 

What ideas come to your mind about this guy? There will be people, men and women alike, who will call him gay on his face or on his back. (Homo phobia, yet another mind block our society suffers from. More on that, perhaps some other day.) His friends will tell him, "Mard ban". People will make fun of him for being a hen-pecked husband. His family will be worried for him and nag him for being too non-manly. Because real men don't cry. Real men don't listen to girls. Real men do flirt. This mentality. This belief system. It's all around us. Try pointing out an obnoxious behavior by a co-worker in the form of a dirty comment or showcasing filthy mind-set, what do you get the hear the most? "Come on, take it easy, men will be men." And they will say that with that confident smirk on their faces. As if they are reminding you, that in this society, men get to do what they want to do. Even if it means being ridiculous and over the line. That's the way they have been brought up. And women of their families are equally responsible for highlighting that as a fact. Guys are told by their own mothers to keep their wives in control. They are told by their own parents to not learn house hold work because it's not a man's job. They are told to never cry because that's just being sissy. 

A soft spoken, non-violent and sweet tempered man is considered abnormal in our society. As if he doesn't fit. Life can be tough for such men. He will be mocked at, made fun of and ridiculed beyond all extents till the time he gives in. And hence, such men don't exist. That's the bifurcation of our society. Men are meant to adopt "Mardaangi" and women are meant to adopt "Maryaada." There. That's the answer. 

And I can't point it out enough that both men and women of this society are responsible that this though process exists. I won't ever blame just men for the same. 

Reading into what every politician speaks about rape is giving them undue importance. Discussing how a religious preacher (preacher, he ain't a leader) reacted, is making him feel we listened to him. And what are we doing. Every day finding one person or the other to point our fingers at. To blame. And discuss it as a hot topic. I wonder if anyone wants to see the naked truth of this problem. The devil resides inside all of us. We're all infected. Every little fragment of our society needs repairing. And although the other things might get fixed if persisted upon a lot, this aspect won't get repaired no matter how many laws you implement.
That's why this commotion frustrates me. Sitting on your work stations, sharing pictures, news links and doing absolutely nothing at all about the real problems. Having heated arguments. And at the end of the day, going back to your homes and thinking on the same lines you thought on yesterday is basically, doing NOTHING.
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These are strange, volatile times. Women have almost started to believe that men are born rapists. If they aren't leering at you, molesting you, groping you or raping you, it's just them suppressing their natural instinct. That instinct will come alive at the slightest of provocation. Men are being forced to prove their open attitude else be categorized as one of "them". Yes, the reason I was aware of that man's intentions on the road last night was that my mind told me to be on my guards even when I am walking down a busy road, because there will be men there too. The times for women to feel unsafe all the time, and men to be ashamed of themselves. These are not good times. 

Not a good-bye.

There are few things that you just can't say good-bye to. Because you can't part with them. Because these are the things that you come back home to at the end of the day or at the end of a phase or at the end of your life. You always come back to them.You can just let them go for the time being, till the time you meet them again. That's the only way you can survive without them. With that hope of seeing that thing so dear to you, again sometime.

The doors, the hallways and "Suruchi is back to blogging".

It's been almost a year since I wrote something here. I've missed writing. Today I read my own blog and the first thing I realized was how inflicted such agonizing gyaan upon you guys all the time, and you all still read my blog. Respect! (BTW I love you a lot more when you comment on my blog posts. Really.)

I read my last post, where I said I wanted to move on from my life then and was hopeful of a change. Guess what? It didn't really go that way. Instead of moving forward with my life, I remained stuck. Or worse, I even went backwards at times. So here I am, shouting out loud, that life really SUUUUUCKED the whole of last year. It was a phase rocky as hell, and it ended on a worse note! 

(Of course you all knew I wasn't fine. I wasn't calling you, forwarding irritating messages, disturbing your inner peace as much as possible and poking you on social media sites to like my photos, albums and comments. See! THAT'S the extent to which things went wrong. I went quiet! But don't continue with your hope, I might be returning back to normal. I am just saying...your Utopian comfortable life had to end eventually!)

Having said that, there is such a wonderful ring to that sentence where I said that the phase ended on a worse note. Simply because there is a term in it that stands as a solution to the entire problem - "Ended". 

An end always is followed with a new beginning. You might not be able to see or experience that new beginning for quite some time. But the moment you finish the ongoing phase, you give a chance to the universe to present you the next plan that is in stores for you. How pleasant, how optimistic and how very re-assuring! *Applause* 

Keeping the sunny, optimistic banter aside, we all need to have a reality check in place. Ending things is in your hands. But ending it right, is what matters. Having a new beginning is something you must wait for, but letting the right beginning happen to you, is what will work. 

Putting it across by saying, "When one door shuts, another opens" is 'ideal, butter scotch' smooooooth! (Oh yeah, I love butter scotch ice cream more than I love chocolate.) But then, the real life comes with long waiting periods in the hallways. You will end up realizing that the hallway is a suffocating place. You will get lured into entering any door that opens up for you, just to escape that area where walls seem to be closing in on you all the time. You might stand there and keep wondering if a door will ever open up. In this situation, it's also possible that you would start knocking on that door which shut behind you and try going back in because it was a familiar place to be in. Man these hallways are a bitch! 

That's why, the moment that door shuts, lock it from your side and throw away the keys. That's the only way to put an end to something: Never looking back. When waiting in the hall way, you will get lonely. Don't feel afraid of the dark, just pick up the phone and ask your friends to come and give you company as you wait. When the doors start opening, take your time to evaluate. About wondering whether the right door will ever open or not...you're expecting too  much...few things just don't have a solution. Reality can be nasty, suck it up.

To make your waiting periods less cumbersome, enter the hallways clutter free. Make sure your exit from that door was free of guilt, frustrations and unfinished business. Else it will get lonely, hopeless, desperate and quite frankly, you won't be able to handle it. 

I have been in this hall way for quite some time now. And I am glad I didn't go for any of the wrong doors which opened up for me. I am happy I could eventually lock the door which had shut behind me and I am satisfied that I stand here having committed no wrong, having no burdens on my mind. (As you read this, imagining my solemn, smiling face with that angelic halo over my head might make this gibber gabber far too appealing!) 

All said and done, now that I am here, I have had this enlightening moment. I introspected and realized how I could just get inspired by the bashing life gives me. I can help my fellow beings. (My blog reaches 500 FB friends and about 20 something of those who stay online on gtalk.) I can write about these high-end, spiritual as well as practical (Yeah, I can say that, IT'S MY BLOG!) thoughts and learning...and put them all here in this blog. All I need to do next is, send this link to all of you, request (not pester) you to read it, and then humbly await your opinion.(No threats this time, really.)