Sunday, August 31, 2014

Canvas Kolkata-Kumartooli The Durga Puja Preparations - 1

 As The Mother Eagerly awaits at the gates of Kailash
To descend to the Earth, once her abode......
As Lord Shiva looks at his wife longingly....
Nine Days of parting is a shade too long....

 Her sons and daughters fervently engage in creating divinity out of clay

The monsoon almost over....
A clear sky is all that they pray..

 God creates Humans and Humans create a frame for God...

The daughter of  This Earth

Is The Strength to the Supreme one....

Maa Asche......Mother is Coming

Being Fashionable

True, Untrue
Happy, Sad
Caring, Indifferent
Beautiful, Ugly
Awakened, Sleepy.

This question made me think, think real hard of all the times when I needed help and of the times when someone in dire need of help was in front of me. 

Being a benevolent person I usually help people I know when they need help. 

But what about strangers? I will think twice. 

I might even pass by them thinking that someone else will have the time to save.

 But the candle march rally? 

I may avoid it thinking that if I do not have time to save someone then why have a candle march.

 But will I raise my voice against it after reading the morning newspaper? 

Yes, sure I will. That is the only thing I do, use my freedom for speech.

Why do I voice my opinion?

 because it is fashionable.

Why Do we line up in a candle march?

 Because it is fashionable.

It is Fashion at My India the Great

Why do not we save people in distress? 

Simple logic it is never in fashion. We are fashionable people. We do every thing in fashion. We do not do what others won't do. So saving someone is out of fashion.

I too follow fashion. I love to be trendy. I voice my opinion but never save people in trouble.

But what happens when I am the VICTIM

Well then I fend for myself. I do not have any one to help.

 People will look at my pretty face. People will look at me and appreciate but they will never come when I am in distress. We are worshippers of beauty. They will love me rill I am beautiful. They will not save me when I am brutalized because then I am ugly. Who cares for ugly people. But when I am martyr to my own victimization then death shall make me beautiful, it will make me pure. People will come then for me with candles in their hands with their eyes open wide, face glowing. But then now while being brutalized they all have eyes wide shut and they wait red faced, ashamed at my ugliness. 

Knowing all this I walk, I live and when I see others in distress I pass by. I too wait for the person being martyred and then I jump into the scene.

The Beginnings-2

"Hello, Nirvaan!  I have not seen you for a long while, hope life is treating you well,  my old friend." her voice sounded benevolently frozen.

 I couldn't help it, the song "Hotel California" played in my mind "Welcome to the Hotel California...". For some unknown reasons I was dead scared. Nandini, the nerd Nandini was sitting in front of me in the tram. I had seen her last some twelve years back. She was a timid and unassuming girl. she was almost invisible.

 I remembered the day when I last saw her. She was sitting in the library trying to solve an equation in calculus. Poor thing she wasn't good looking neither was she good in studies, she was just an average. She used to steal glances towards me. Friends said she had this huge crush over me. So, that was the day we were playing truth and dare and my dare was to go and propose her and make her believe that I was madly in love with her.

"I love you." I said as I approached her. She looked at me quizzically
"All Right" she said and went back to her books.
"You have to believe me I really love you." I said sitting there opposite to her and holding her hand.
"Leave my hand." She said snatching her hands back and quietly stood up to leave.
I stood up, walked up to her held her hand and went down on my knees, "I REALLY REALLY LOVE YOU!" I said aloud and my voice echoed in the big hall. Thankfully the Librarian was not there. I was happy to win another bet. She will surely fall for this. What does she want more? She was plainer than the plain Jane and I was the School Head Boy, the most popular and all in the school. She will say yes and I will win the bet.

"Have a nice day." she smiled and went away.

She never was to be seen ever. Some people said that she went mad thinking that I proposed her. Some rumours said that she had declared that day that she has a boyfriend (me) and her parents took her out of the school and sent her to another city and she got married after three years. The day she turned eighteen. Rumours about her followed from her being a drug addict to an ugly fat woman to her having five kids. Some also said she went crazy and committed suicide.

"How are you Nirvaan, What brings you to the city?" she said. Her voice brought me out of the flashback.
"I....I a...m g..ood." I stammered out. I saw cold sweat gripping me in the month of December.
"You are sweating. I know Kolkata winters are nothing compared to the winters you are used to but still you shouldn't ideally sweat. Any ways  Cold or Heat I feel nothing....It has been so for the last ten years." she said her stony eyes moving from me to the window.
"What do you mean you do not feel!?" My mind was making all kind of assumptions. She looked so beautiful and so distant and something was so very wrong with her. She was different. I had thought of her often and felt a guilty pleasure that I can affect someone so gravely. She was a part of my numerous infamous legends. The girl I screwed without even screwing.

"After that day the life was not like parents knew about my love towards you. I was supposed to say yes to you the day after but my Dad took me away to another town and locked me up for an entire year. everyday I used to write your name on the wall and my dad had it white washed every day. This went on for an year. After that I was not the same I was put into a Mental Asylum and I lived there for a year and killed myself." She said as a matter of fact and looked at me smiling.

I could not believe her last words ......"Killed Myself." I was looking at her as the tram dragged slowly through the lazy winter evenings of Kolkata. I was nearly in tears. I felt a deep remorse, a deep guilt in me. Had I not said that nothing would have happened. She would have been alive....

"I always wanted to grow up and live in Kolkata and always wanted to meet you both are done and I can leave now..." She said with a deep sense of calm. She looked divine and gorgeous and what a waste of life!
"You look beautiful..." I managed to say as she got up from the seat.
"Calm makes you beautiful." she said
Yes, the calm after death makes you beautiful.

  It has been one week since I met Nandini. I couldn't forget her face. I couldn't sleep properly. She was getting into my being. It was becoming an obsession.

My mobile beeped at the ungodly hour of 2:00 am. It was an email alert. The email was as follows:

Hey Nirvaan!

I am so sorry for the other day but the bewildered face that you made the other day made me do all this.

Let's start with the beginning:

1. That day in the library I had heard your "Dare" so that is why I didn't respond. You people were so loud. I looked at you because you were good looking but was never attracted towards you. As a person I don't fall into love that easily.

2. That was my last day in the school. My Dad had got an offer from another city. Since I had no friends no one knew about it. I moved in to another town and resumed my studies

3. I met across one of the class mates over the social network and we are good friends. I had almost forgotten about you. He mentioned you and the rumours surrounding me. We had a good laugh and I almost forgot about that till I came across with you in the tram.

4. No, I am not dead, in fact I made up the entire story on the spot. Your Expression was sure the catalyst. My intention was of pure mischief and nothing malevolent.

5. I look beautiful because I am a late bloomer. Next time do keep your mouth shut on seeing me.

I am so sorry to bother you with that. If it is all right do revert.


My Reply:

Dear Nandini/Mischief Monger,

Sure as hell I want to meet you and you owe me a treat for this.

Tell me when you are free. We will meet.


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

Thursday, August 28, 2014

The Sky it Was-Thursday Challenge

The Golden Moment

Far away Land

To the Paradise

Homeward Bound

Kolkata Sky in its different shades

This is a part of Thursday Challenge initiated by for more photographs around the world please do click here
This Thursday's Theme:Sky

Wednesday, August 27, 2014

For Introverts

It is an odd array of things my life is made of. Yes, generally I do not write much about myself or my life in my blogs.A mention or two about my life in the comments of the blogs which touch my heart is generally the norm. This is the rare occasion where I am not hiding behind a Devyani, The Tunnel Of Mirrors, My Love or many other things. This time it is just me, pure and unadulterated me. To start of with I was a shy and Introvert child. I was so introvert and so quiet that people either thought I am either to abnormal or too proud. But I was shy and painfully introvert.

Living in a society where as a children it is normal to be loud, demanding, unruly and in short it was a thing of pride to be a Brat. I was sure the odd ball. People had all kind of assumptions. The questions never left my parents:

Why  is your child so silent?
Is she good in studies?
Is she normal?
Is she crazy?
Have you seen a doctor/psychiatrist?
Your child is too proud?

A simple thing as being an Introvert was a big issue. No, nothing was wrong with me.I was not dumb. Infact I topped the class. I was not lazy.I was very active. I just remained silent. Why? It was because it was my personality type.

Human Personality has various classification criteria. One of the many criteria is:






Introvert is a personality type where a person keeps to oneself and is not outspoken. The person who is an introvert more sensitive to the inwards. Generally this person thinks a lot about past, future and sometimes present. An Introvert is someone with a very strong emotional Bubble.

Extrovert is a person who is outgoing and loves to interact. Extrovert mostly loves to live in the present. Extrovert is more sensitive towards the happenings around and outwards.

Ambivert is somewhere in between these two.

A person who is introvert generally creates a lot of mystery around him or her. The simple reason being the person is so quiet and can't be reached. People generally perceive that their is a fortress surrounding them and this is true to some extent.

So, what do you do when you are an introvert and face questions like this:

Why don't you talk?
Over heard: haven't you heard their daughter is abnormal she is an introvert?
Advice: What is wrong with you? Have almonds it will increase your brain!
Over heard; She keeps quiet since she broke up with that guy....heard she was sleeping with them.

My reactions were of:
My jaw dropped
Aunty Please I top the class, I am the House Vice Captain.
Oh Really!! make me meet "That Guy" with whom I was head over heels in love let me also see how he looks like.

But then sense crept into me. I chose to ignore things and pass them off with a smile. As an introvert I tend to over think and contemplate then sulk but then I chose not to. I came in terms with the fact that i am introvert.

So, The first thing accept what you are and be cool about it.

Remember if you are not happy and at peace about yourself you are not at peace with the world.

The one person that matters the most in this world to you is you. So, to be happy is your topmost priority.


To the parents of introvert children:

Never force your child to be outspoken.

An Introvert child is more perceptive than the ordinary child. The child is introvert so, will have a very strong self bubble.For the child you are in the bubble. You accept the child the child accepts you.. Do this from your heart as an introvert child  can sometimes read your thoughts.

Do not force the child to share if the child doesn't want. Let it pass. But keep an eye on the daily activities. Introvert have a high threshold of pain. The best thing they can bear huge amount of pressure. The bad part you will never know when they have a burnout.

Never emotionally blackmail an introvert child. Never suspect an introvert child without solid proofs. You might say "Get out, you are not my child!" and it might create a permanent scar.

Do you know what is an introvert's favourite pass time? it's thinking and deciphering meanings. Never ever accuse an introvert without proper proof. They have a tendency to hold a grudge and answer it in ways unfathomable. Even if it is a negation, it might break their self confidence and push them further in a shell.

Tuesday, August 26, 2014

The Gate

"When I was waiting for you this long I never realized when I fell out of love with you." said Mira with an air of indifference.

Sahil stood there dumb founded. He never had expected this. He sincerely thought it was something she will understand. He was tied up in other things and was so busy with life that he couldn't reach her any sooner.

"How can you say that?" was all that he could manage. His deep brown eyes now filled with tears till the brim. His beautiful mouth shivering to start a bout of sobs.

"I do not know twenty years is a long wait. I kept on standing on this gate keeping my end of promise. What took you so long?" She spoke as her black serpentine hair gently touched her dusky face. Those sparkling almond shaped eyes were so clear that Sahil would spend rest of his time just looking at them.

"You know what took me so long. I have...had a family and kids to take care of. I cannot leave them all for your love. Be reasonable." Sahil said a bit sternly trying to make sense with these feisty lady, the woman of his dreams.

"Yes, your family. As if I am not important." she said with anger

"How can you say that!" Sahil knew Mira was self centered but this shook him from with in.

"Because it is me who is standing at the gate for the past twenty years waiting for you." said Mira with tears in her eyes.

"But you loved them?"

"Yes, that was twenty years back."

"Don't you have a heart?"

"No, gave it to a stranger.....Hey you donated my Heart right?" said Mira giggling.

"We are meeting after twenty years and you are your usual haven't changed a bit." Sahil said tapping her head lightly.

"No, time stopped for me twenty years back."

"So, was my case." said Sahil smiling his signature smile.

"Hey! I saw you smiling after years! How are the kids?"

"Both are married and have kids of their own."

"Do they miss me?" said Mira eagerly

"Yes, they miss their mother every single day, hope I was a good Father." said Sahil smiling apprehensively.
"Yes, Honey you were."

As she opened the gates she kissed him with all the love she had fought to keep alive in her for these years. Once she left her mortal shell it was very hard to be attached to the man she loved when she was bound by the worldly body. Every moment one by one the memories would fade away but she kept it with her. It pained her a lot to remember to live in a state of mourning even when she was just a soul but she knew if she would forget he would also forget and she couldn't make that happen. She promised to wait and she did. Now as they walked hand in hand and entered the Gate, their children were preparing to cremate Sahil and bid the final goodbye.

Sunday, August 24, 2014

The Beginnings

.........And I missed my train.

I sat on my hunches, panting hard grasping every breath as if it were my last. My heart kept on jumping in my rib cage as if it just wants to be set free, maybe it wanted to be freed of the body it was hopelessly pumping life in.

I closed my eyes and still the pain won't go off. I tried to get up and somehow dragged my body to the bench and sat somehow clinging my bag, the only luggage I had. I looked up at the concrete roof of the station and the sickly ceiling fan and smiled. I never missed a train actually and it was my first.

"Hello, missed the train?"

I sat up startled and looked at a smiling face. A pretty good looking face at that. Missing train may have it's own perks I believe.

"Yes." I said
"Well I saw you running towards it and I was in it."
"Were you sleeping that it took you so long to get down at the station?"
"No, I got in the train from this station, I saw you missing your train and I got down."
"Because I felt like it."
"The next train leaves at 10 o'clock in the night. We have 4 hours plus the train ride in our hands."
"So, what do we do?"
"Live the moment when we are still together."
"I don't know let us roam around the city." I smiled something in me told me that this is going to last.

Even if it doesn't last I wouldn't lose out on the moment where I can be in the road of falling in love with each other. Falling in love and the rush of this moment was so amazing that you could live your entire life in misery out of it. I was the one who lived in moments and this moment or the next moments were mine and I will certainly Live, Love and Laugh in them.

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

Saturday, August 23, 2014


Incident One: An Officer-in-Charge catches a thief red handed. He takes him under custody. While interrogating he sees that he is barely 19 or 20. His clothes are tattered and he looks sickly. The Officer asks why did he steal? He said to pay of a debt of some five thousand bucks to claim his father's rickshaw. This boy's father died recently of long sickness and in his treatment the last asset barring their home was either pawned or sold. The Officer releases him gives him five thousand (Equals his month's salary) and says to get back the rickshaw and stop stealing. The Boy does that and the officer doesn't get the money back and doesn't even bother. The Officer has a daughter suffering from Thalasemia who needs regular blood transfusion.

Incident Two: As The Truck enters one of the busiest roads in the city at 5 pm during the peak office hour traffic the Traffic Sergeant stretches his hand like an artiste in pose. The truck driver quickly hands over a hundred rupee note and moves on to give the commuters a nightmare. The Trucks are not allowed to enter city roads between 8 am to 10 pm.

Incident Three: A lady IPS officer cracks a case in 72 hours. She is transferred to a less relevant post.

Incident Four: After 6-7 months of a brutal murder case (rape also) not a single culprit is caught.

Incident Four: A diligent IPS officer ensures smooth Traffic during Durga Pujas. All the officers are standing in the sun doing their duties while we enjoy hassle free Durga Puja. Families together watching Puja. Fathers Mothers and Kids. The Police Officers are someone's Son, Father, Brother, Fiance, Lover, Friend, Mother, Sister, Daughter, Wife. They stand their, they do not have a holiday when all have.

Incident Five: A scene erupts in the street. Some rowdies taking law in their hands. Police just is a silent spectator.

Incident Six: The Financial Capital is under threat. A senior IPS officer, A Police Constable all jump into save the city. The Constable faces an Automatic Weapon with his Office Weapon. You need courage to face Death, To Fight it.

I often wonder why Police= Corrupt?

I am not stating that all Police are good. I am not saying all are inefficient and corrupt.

But they are humans and individuals. Individual ethics and character vary.

The system plays an important role. Not all can go against the Political Bosses. They remain silent.

Some stand. They face two things Transferred or Killed. These people don't fear either.

Some are basically weak and give in to the corruption.

It is not the Police Force but the story of an Entire Nation.



It all starts with and ends with


 (Do click to see the enteries of my fellow bloggers)

Thursday, August 21, 2014

Sky on Fire


My Sky is on Fire
The earth is not my abode
Hither I wonder
Remember I am the Vulcan
Thrown out of heaven
Still too proud for the earth.

Tuesday, August 19, 2014

Thank You Maa

"Wake up you sleepy head." yelled a voice softly (if you know what threatening whispers of a mother means)

"Mom, let me sleep..Its a holiday for Heaven's Sake."I said in sleepy irritation.

"No, you fool its 12 midnight. It's not a holiday for crying out loud. It's THE INDEPENDENCE DAY." She said empathically.

That startled me out of my sleep. I jumped up and sat straight. My mouth hung open to see a splitting image of my mother but I could say she was not my mother. Dusky, with eyes that told you a thousand words, disheveled long black hair. Wearing a white saree. Had it not been the disheveled hair and the saree I would have never thought that it was not my mother.

"Who are you?"
"Can't you see? I am your mother."

"No, you just look like her you are definitely not my mother." I said with conviction.

She tapped my head, "I am your Mother Land."

"If you are Mother India why do I look like my mother?" I was still confused.

"Why? Had it been better if I looked like Mr. India!!?? I look like your mother to you. To another child I will be having the face of her mother. I am just the extension of the soul of every mother in this land which you choose to conveniently ignore. This nation is the part of your soul which you so conveniently ignore. The country is the extension of your home which you choose to conveniently ignore."

I sat quietly staring at her calm face and torrid hair. Something in me woke up that moment.....WE CONVENIENTLY IGNORE a part of our mother, our soul, our country.

"Whose blood do you want to wash your hair with and then tie up." I asked all of a sudden.
"You are intelligent. How did you guess I need blood?"
"I saw your hair open, disheveled and uncombed and that reminded me of Draupadi, who pledged not to tie her hair until she bathes her hair with Dushasan's blood."

"You are right my dear child but partially. I have been insulted many times but I do not seek revenge s it is my own child who have wronged me time and again for years. I will wash my hair not with blood but by the honesty, the dedication, the selfless love towards the mother land by each and every Indian."

"You know mother that is not possible. Corruption, greed and all these evils will never go. You do not wait for utopia to happen. Stop waiting and tie your hair thinking of the few children who are honest."

"YOUR MOTHER NEVER GIVES ON YOU. I WILL NEVER GIVE UP ON YOU CHILD." said Mother as she slowly vanished in the thin air.

I woke up and saw The Mahabharata lying by my bedside. It was 1o'clock in the early morning. I had slept reading the Cheer Haran part. I closed the book and then I knew what mother meant.

Turn "Bharat: into "Maha(n) Bharat." (Great India).

Thank You Maa....

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


Friday, August 15, 2014

On Empathy

When I first stepped as a nervous newbie in that school little did I know how far will helping others take me. My first day in a new school and a new city was horrible. I joined mid session in the month of  September. On the first day as I entered the class all the kids were playing as the assembly bell was yet to ring. I was all of nine and half years studying in 5th Standard. After assembly I was introduced formally and was made to sit in a bench in the last rows because of my height.

The first day was:

Me smiling a friendly smile at all.

All frowning back at me.

This went on for a month till the mid terms I used to sit in a corner and quietly do my work. The Mid Term elevated my status from a "New comer Nobody" to "One of the Toppers Somebody". Atleast people didn't frown the just returned my smile with a blank stare.

Then that day came: One of the classmates accidentally dropped his tiffin and I quietly forwarded my tiffin and said him to have it. He had his fill and I was a bit empty stomach but it felt good when he smiled looking at me and said "Thank You". This is what I wanted for so log a selfless smile at me.

It slowly became a pattern in the class. If a student got stuck in a particular chapter I explained it. If a person had a problem in Drawing I helped her. I was my Class' "Help and Advice Centre".

On a lighter not being benevolent was my USP. I was not an interesting company nor I was a beautiful company. So, what won me friends was my benevolence and empathy. 

My mother said that they were just using me and I was investing my time on them for nothing but I was using their smiles to bring me joy.

That was when being benevolent helped me to become a better human. I learnt to be more empathic towards people.

True I don't give alms to beggars because I believe in empathy and not in sympathy. My logic is till there is life in you be the light in you.

I have seen a blind man selling incense stick in front of the Railway Station. I buy them even though I don't use them. The reason: I am respecting his choice of not bowing to easier means of work.  

Swami Vivekananda once said - If you give a fish to a hungry man you fulfill his hunger for a single day but if you teach the man how to fish you solve his hunger for a lifetime.

Benevolence for me is understanding a person's problem and work together towards solving the problem in such a way that the problem never comes again and even if it comes we have the solution in hand or are ready to face it efficiently.

If I help a person, I address the process and not the output. For eg: If a person comes and says me to write an application for him or her in English because he cannot frame words properly I will guide him to frame the sentences and give him a basic understanding of sentence formation. It will take much more time compared to the process where I simply write the letter but in the long run it will be much more fruitful.

Kindness and empathy are two things which can never have a transactional value in terms of material. The only thing you expect out of being kind is the smile of the person whom you help.

Thursday, August 14, 2014


"...As if nothing had happened!" her mother shouted throwing away The Kafka she was reading.

She could see from her mother's face that this was not the usual, it was serious. Something had happened, something very bad. Her nostrils flared, eyes were blood red and she was trembling.

She held her hand with pleading eyes but her mother removed the hand and slapped her hard on her face.

She again held her hand with both her hands and held it softly but more reassuringly. She looked in to her eyes and nodded her head down once with empathy.

She knew what it was. She was not a child anymore. She was almost eighteen now. She was still not an adult but she was always an adult from the heart.

"What is it Mom?" she said calmly
Her mother had stopped to tremble and sat beside her on the bed in her room and kept her head low.

They remained silent for a few minutes and then tears started to roll out of the mothers eyes.
The daughter hugged her tightly.

"It is all right mother." said the daughter softly and gently kissed her head.

"You are not running away from us in the guise of moving away for the higher studies." said the mother with a child like innocence.

"No, Mom. I told you that I will come every other weekend." she said.

"Whom will I talk to when you are gone? Your Dad is too busy stating his own problems and your brother is too small."
"We will talk over phone."
That night the mother became the three year old daughter who cried night long fourteen years back on hearing that school means to be away from Mom.

That night the daughter became the thirty two year old mother who consoled her daughter all night long, fourteen years back while her heart too cried thinking of the separation.

The Cycle of Life....

Labels: Mother-Daughter Relationship , Emotional Turmoil, Family

Friday, August 8, 2014

India and Matters of the Heart

Marriage and Love or Love and Marriage is a tricky affair all over the world. Matters of heart and human emotions are always tricky. Why they are tricky?

  • Human beings are complex creatures. No two people are alike. What works for one don't work for another. There is no formula for love.
  • Even people get attracted to each other it might not be love.
  • Even they are in love there might be compatibility issues.
The more individualistic the society is the more importance is given to Individual choices. Individualistic societies focus  more on individuals and there needs. You are not implicated unless you are not committing any crime. Their so called morals are negotiable. People won't slit the throat of a fellow person just because he is not up to the benchmark of morality he has set. People understand and respect the fact that to each person lies his/her choices and morality.

Shifting Focus to India: We are an ancient river side civilization, sharing a common river and a limited space with a humungous population. If you look at us we are one of the oldest surviving civilization. Be it The Hindus (I prefer Sanatani), The Muslims, The Christians, The Budhists, The Sikhs all are our people. There fore father have lived and died in this land. They might have had other religion that time but you can change religion , you can't alter genes. We as an Old Civilization have seen death, devastation, famine, flood but we survived. We had our civilization tagging along with us. What made our civilization survive? Living in clan, following rules led down through ages, sacrificing personal interests for the society. These things are stored in our Social Memory. We had so much to fight outwards that we neglected inwards. Its worth noting that this land of great Scholars never had a prominent Psychologist. Marriage for us is not an individual affair and choice. It is a social thing. It is empowering our clan by associating with the other people of our clan. Its about being homogeneous. Love and Individualism gets thrown away in the battle of survival. The theory of marriage here is simple:
  • Human Beings are Complex??? No, its a myth. Who cares if two people are different. Their caste and religion is the same. Marry them off before time passes.
  • What Attraction? What Love? No time for it. Their caste and religion is the same. Marry them off before time passes. They have to fall in love and if not who cares a child with in one year they are sealed for life.
  • Compatibility?? Their caste and religion is the same. Marry them off before time passes. They will have sex and everything will be all right.
 Everything went right till the ages but until now. We have passed the survival stage and are moving on. we are opening our eyes to the other aspects of life, like individual choices. The boundaries are falling apart. We are interacting irrespective of what our Religion or Caste is. We are transforming and in the last ten years we are transforming through leaps and bounds. What is the catch? Well we are facing a generation gap war. My Grandfather (b. 1914) and my Father (b. 1951) never had a generation gap issue. Why? because he thought that going in accordance with the society is the right way just like his father. But me (b. 1986) have a torrid relationship with my parents. Why? because I am questioning the ways which were down there for thousands of years. I was adorning my individuality first and society wishes second. This is not just me but a whole pattern. We cannot change the mentality or the outlook of people who have lived all there lives living an ideology in a single go. This is one thing we have to accept. We are the first generation of our kind. We have to go through many sacrifices for a better world for our future generation. Our ways are tough because we are the first to walk in masses on this very less traveled road of individualism.

Marriage in India is a social affair. We discuss the wedding dress the bride has more than the happiness of the couple. We discuss the food more than couple's compatibility. We ourselves somewhere ignore the real bliss. I will say in urban areas the things are changing. Parents retaliate thinking of kid's happiness (I am sure an inter caste marriage or an inter religion marriage would have been alright with me after proper counselling of my parents) and thanks to the urban isolation, the society does not matter much.

But what about Tier 2 and 3 cities and villages? It is still a taboo. Forget inter caste and inter religion even a plain intra caste marriage is a taboo over there. People are still honour killed based on these archaic assumptions. The situation is dismal in many regions.

But the silver lining is that things are changing and they are changing for good. A section of people are accepting inter caste and inter religion marriages. We as a nation just have to stand strong and usher a holistic change.

My conclusion Inter Caste Marriage is a Taboo in "Bharat" but its not a Taboo in "India".

Inspired to write in reponse to Indispire Edition 25.

Inter - Religion marriage still taboo among indians ? What is your take on it . #InterReligionMarriage

For more interesting blogs in the same topic do visit my Fellow Bloggers (click here)

Labels : marriage , inter-religion marriagessociety , relationships

Wednesday, August 6, 2014

For the infidels it rained that night

"It is a pleasure to love you, to know you." she said as she wiped the tears that rolled out of her eyes and touched her swollen lips.
"It will hurt a little but then it will be over." said the boy to his girlfriend in the flat next to hers.
"I have forsaken my identity for you and will again forge a new identity if you want."She said looking at him, her lips throbbing with pain all the while.
"Isn't it wrong? You are engaged?" said the girlfriend next door, sitting back on the bed where her boyfriend had laid her.
"Then why doesn't it feel wrong?" answered the boyfriend with a smile laying her back.
"If it is wrong to you then I am saying sorry but I will never be sorry for it." she said as something hurt her dignity along with her swollen lips and aching body.
"No, I do not feel it is wrong but then....will you stay? No, you won't." the girlfriend said pausing the boyfriend who was about to kiss.

"WHY DID YOU DO THIS? JUST TO AVENGE YOURSELF?" her husband shouted and shivered, controlling the urge to hit her...again.

"No, just to prove that lying hurts." she said calmly and her husband hit her again making her bleed from her lips. Her lips that he loved so much.
"You won't stay but my essence will linger and you will be a half lover to any woman hence forward." the girlfriend said as a matter of fact.

"Let it be...I want to be an infidel with you and for you." said the boyfriend caressing her hair.

"YOU BETRAYED MY TRUST! YOU ARE AN INFIDEL!" said her husband throwing her on the bed and again hitting her.

"I had always told you. You are marrying an infidel. Your lie just broke open the infidel in me." she said with a serene smile.

"Say you don't love...." he said now sobbing

"I have always loved you..." she said hitting him hard as he fell on the ground. writhing in pain.

She drew close and grabbed his hair with one hand and throttled his throat with another hand and kissed him lightly on his forehead

"This is what you have made of our relation. Love and hate hand in hand. Guess we both are infidels." she said smiling placing her body near to his.
"I just want to be close to you. I know this night won't come. For me Love and incompleteness will go hand in hand." said the boyfriend lying beside his girlfriend.

"If only you knew I can never be in love.....I am the incompleteness in you, I am your infidelity." she said drawing her body close to her boyfriend.


The Husband and wife lied side by side calmly sharing a bond of Love and Hate.

The Boyfriend and Girlfriend Lied side by side sharing a bond of Love and Incompleteness.

The four living next to each other separated by a thin urban residence wall, all of them getting adulterated love.

The held each other tight and cried and smiled peacefully........and It Rained That Night.

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

Monday, August 4, 2014

Incredible India !!! Part One!!

India, a land full of People, a Nation of Colourful People. People here are loud, outspoken, attention seeking, immensely benevolent or extremely malevolent. Even the average common citizen of India is extremely average. I have lived across geographies and trust me I cannot replace anything with being an Indian and living in India. Its like living in a fiction every single moment and who misses that !!

Living here is like a kaleidoscope of experiences. A burst of flavours in your mouth. Yes, we are foodies. Our food is the most vibrant in the world and sure its spicy and loud as the people are.

A sip of tea in the Decker's Lane in Kolkata, Aloo Tikki at High Court area in Gwalior, Faluda at Sadar Bazar in Agra, Having Dhoklas at night in a street in Ahmedabad, Pani Puri at Juhu Chaupati in Mumbai, South Indian  Paw Bhaji in Vishakapatnam. All the things have one thing common other than awesome taste. Its AWESOME LITTER they create and add to that the habit of ours to throw things out of the dustbin.

If there are two points A and B and they are 5 meters apart. X is standing at the middle (Point C)  2.5 meters each from A and B and is having an Item Y which has a wrapper P. A here is a dustbin and B is just a portion of footpath or road. 95% chances the wrapper P will end up in the point B.

While commuting in a Train recently (Jodhpur Express) I got a shock of my life. I went to use the washroom and voila! NO PAN STAINS, NO DIRTY COMMENTS OR ILLUSTRATIONS in the washroom. I almost lost consciousness and panicked and then pinched myself hard to make sure I was not dreaming. NO it was real! So very real. Unbelievable!

Then, coming back I sat on my seat and people were discussing about the Clean roads of US and Europe.

One Gentleman said "The Government works there."
Another Said "See the roads, They are so clean. The Government cleans the roads there so, nicely!"

Being an Imaginative person I imagined Obama ,Cameron, Merkel, Putin et all, sweeping the streets or roads of their respective countries. The Government Officials carrying a spit bowl and catching every spit that is thrown out. Really, our government should do it. They should personally visit and pick up every time we litter on the roads. They should hover around in a helicopter with a binocular. The moment anyone litters on the road they should catch it. US and Europe also do this exercise, Right? People over there do not care to throw things in dustbin or they do not restrain from spitting in public. Government does that after all its government's country not our country. We should be bothered to clean up our home itself  as we live there. We do not live in our Country.

Thinking all this I slipped into a siesta. When I opened my eyes. The Lady who was traveling along with the Gentleman and the entire family offered me peanuts, they had bought. I politely refused. I saw that they were eating the peanuts and throwing the leftover on the floor of the train.

"This train is so dirty." said the gentleman while continuing to decorate the floor with peanuts.

I smiled and thought in India complaining never ends and taking responsibility never actually begins.  I hope it changes and we change it not anyone else but we. One person at a time. One step at a time.