Whenever She uses the "F" word...

Opened this article thinking I was referring to THE "F" word? :D
Congrats, you've just been cheated, because this one's really about the next most used and abused "F" word: Feminism.

(Haan haan ye article wahi ghise pite topic par hai... par ab aa hi gaye hain yahaan, to kripaya padh hi lijiye...)

Because contrary to popular perception, there’s a difference between being a feminist and a sexist…

~

A neighbor on the street, to her parents:

“Your daughter hit the boy on the head”

“Yes, I have lectured her against it, but she says that the boy teased and hit her first. I hope you called his parents too. I’d like to have a word with them.”

“Oh, I didn’t think that was necessary. After all, he’s just a boy and boys are uncontrollably naughty. Ladke to hote hi aise hain, kya kar saktein hain.”

~

Her Class 12 Biology teacher, to her:

“Get out of the class, you didn’t do your assignment.”
“But why only me? Why are you letting them sit in the class?

“Oh, these boys are already so notorious. But you, being a girl, disappoint me more.”

~

A female professor to the class in her under-grad college:

“Why are you girls cribbing so much over marks? It’s not like they’re going to take you anywhere. And why all the fuss about lack of resources in the lab, haan? You are anyway going to get married and be housewives or teachers as soon as you pass out from here. Just let things be, okay?”

~

The prospective-groom’s parents to her:

“Can you cook?”

“Yes, I can. Can your son?”

“Will you relocate?”

“Yes, I may. Will your son?”

“Are you career-oriented or a family person?”

“I am both, what about your son?”

Feedback on phone later: “We think your daughter is too career-oriented and headstrong. We want a more family girl.”

Every time she tells people she is a feminist, they look at her as if she is out on some “mahila-mukti-morcha”, until she clarifies:

“I'm as much a feminist as I'm a masculinist”

Yes! The "M" word exists. :P

…and if someone stood as a silent witness to even one event similar to the ones mentioned above, then they are the actual sexists.

Through Shut Eyes I Saw

Some beliefs
Some broken dreams
dreams? or just wishful thinking
in desperation?
of escapism
of running away from reality
of shutting eyes to effort
of wishing for things to happen
on their own

a life, its luxuries, taken for granted
served on a platter
with cherry toppings and creamy icings
cribbing still
for nothing in particular
yet over everything

but till when?
never budging
cribbing still
pampered, moods
throwing tantrums
overtly rude
under the guise of sarcasm
hiding beneath all this
masking imperfections
incomplete endings

but till when?
but till when?
when one day
I shut my eyes
in frightened rebellion
as life slapped me hard
the sound reverberated
deep within
the pain of thrust
pierced within

I shut my eyes
and that's when I saw
or rather, was made to face
myself
all that had to be cleaned up
the pile of misery
of a self centered miser
miser in effort
miser in wholeheartedness
miser in character
miser in intention

and still the world has been
generous
way too generous
with this realization
I vow to give back
what I have taken
that hasn't been rightfully mine
Now I yearn to give back
all that I never earned but took

It's not snakes and ladders
life
not shields and daggers
it is a realization
life
a realization
that takes its own time to come
a realization
that's better late than never.

An Irony, that's Life.

~
सोच समझ कर
चले थे इन पर
अब भी फिर क्यों
लगते अजनबी ये रस्ते हैं

क्यों आए कोई
रोने संग हमारे
हम तो अपनी इस
हालत पर खुद भी हँसते हैं


~
जाने ये कब हुआ 
दूसरों कि नज़र से
खुद को परखने लग गए

देखते थे सपने कईं
बेपरवाह नींद में
जाने कब हम
नींद से जग गए



~
संदूक में रख संजोया जिनको 
दिल के वो कुछ अरमान ही तो थे 
जाने क्यूँ ज़िन्दगी उन्हें भी 
भरी सड़क पर, खोल 
तमाशा बना गयी


~
उम्मीदों के साये में 
हम जब फिर लम्हे जीने लगे
ज़िन्दगी ने उन पर भी आकर 
एक नया सवेरा कर दिया


~
यूँ तो होगा जोशे-जूनून कल फिर
पर ज़िन्दगी के इस अचम्भे पथ पर
आज भरोसा आधा है

होगी नयी एक सुबह कल फिर
पर इन कृत्रिम उजालों के बीच छुपा ये
आज अँधेरा ज़्यादा है  

Classroom

The teacher declared, "Never say never"
A voice from the back blurted out, "Practice what you preach"

The stern glare met many a mischievous eyes.
And amid the suppressed giggles and rising rage,
all thought, "Whoever said Nothing is Impossible"

गुप्ता जी, आज खुश हैं

गर्म चाय और कड़क बिस्कुट लिए
बरामदे की ठंडी हवा में खड़े
बंद आँखों से मंद मंद मुस्कुराते
गुप्ता जी
पुरानी यादों के बीच कहीं खोए हुए हैं
छोड़ो कल की बातें
इस दौड़ से ज़रा परे हट कर
वो आज, यहाँ, इस लम्हे के होए हुए हैं

गुप्ता जी, ज़रा सुनो तो

#2

अटैची लेकर घर से दफ्तर तक
पीढ़ी दर पीढ़ी वही Road न लो
नया चुनो कोई रस्ता लेकिन
नहीं मज़ा उस रस्ते में तो
Light लो, पर Load न लो |

नए दौर के Version ३ में
Version १ का Source code न लो
मिल भी गया तो Antique समझ लो
तोड़ मरोड़ के नया बनालो
Black में बेचो, Load न लो |

गुप्ता जी, ज़रा सुनिए

#1

बहुत भाग लिए ज़िन्दगी के पीछे गुप्ता जी,
सुनो अगर जो कान लगा कर, वक़्त कहने लगा है
अब चला जाए तेज़ इतना कि ज़िन्दगी को भगाएं 
या रुक जाएँ, थम जाएँ ऐसे कि ज़िन्दगी खुद ब खुद 
खींच कर ले जाए आगे, अपने साथ।

You know what the best part about today is?

This is the worst I can be now.
I can only get better from here.
And having realized that is the best feeling.
The feeling of peace. With myself.

I can feel the Dragon rising from sleep.
The nightmares it has had are fading away.
Its rising.
Stretching.

And when it exhales after that deep breath in.
A fiery fire flows furiously.

Rising from the Remains

Dormant.
Distracted.
Distraught.
Disordered.
Dismayed.
Disconcerted.
Dubious.
For too long.
Far too long.

The Dragon.
Impassioned again,
is rising.
Determined.

Rising.
Raging.
Restless.
Roaring.
Readying.

Slow and steady.
Rising from the remains.

For the path ahead may be
too demanding,
but the gates are back in sight.

Cold

Its getting too dark in here.
This engulfing hollowness.
The black hole I never knew existed
is growing heavier by the day.
Perhaps a walk in the sun
would do good.
And a free flow of tears.

I walk in the sun.
I find no warmth.
I cry my heart out.
Saltless water, cold.

24 and a Half

Really? A post about being Twenty Four and a Half?
Age is just a number. And whats in a number really?
"Don't add days to your life, add life to your days", silly girl!


Precisely that's what I am talking about here. Looking at the 'unquantifiable', invaluable and humble realizations this half year has unsolicitedly bestowed upon me, today, at '24 and a 1/2' and a day older, it leaves me fondly amused.

Half year ago, I was going senile.
Half year ago I was pushed into being 24.
I disliked the idea of being at 24,
just because I was going senile.
Half year ago,
I found consolation in the fact that like other years,
this "being 24" too shall quickly, peacefully pass.
But this was not to be.

Because, Half year ago
I 'really' started growing up.
I did not see it coming then.
I realize it now looking back.

I forced open the imaginary gates of
shielding, lofty fantasies
to brace the hard hitting,
unyielding blows of reality.

I freaked out. I cried. I cursed.
I got bruised left, right and center.
Personally, professionally,
physically, mentally,
idealistically, philosophically,
really.

Half year later,
I am stronger, full of vigor
and tolerant.
Perplexed yet hopeful.
Stubborn yet pragmatic.
Delirious yet patient.
Chancing yet steady.
Sanely insane
Complexly plain

So here I am,
Looking forward
to being 25, 26 and many more.
Simply loving being Twenty Four.
Basking in this transition
from being childish to being mature.

Half year ago,
I was neither happy nor satisfied.
Now at 24 and a 1/2, and a day older,
I choose never to be satisfied.
And I couldn't be happier.

This is definitely not a Quarter-life crisis.
Its Quarter-life amazement!

Cultivation

Amid a roar of frantic clapping, the excited voices cheered, "Try with 6 now Jaggu". He did. More clapping and more cheers followed as encouraged and surprised by his own little talent, he tried successfully with 7 and 8 also.

The small herd of little kids was getting ecstatic. They were all shouting in unison, "We want Naaine, wee~ want naa~ine". Twelve year old Jaggu was skeptical now. Could he do it? Could he juggle all 9 for a minute without letting any fall? Or rather, should he? Because if even one fell...

Vacillating between his irrepressible excitement and duty, as Jaggu picked up the ninth apple from the thela he was monitoring, at a distance, his angry father could be seen stomping with a thick bamboo stick towards the commotion to give him what was to be 'Jaggu's first lesson'.

Jaggu the juggler was to be Jaggu the Apple seller.

Workstation

Overwhelmed with emotions, wiping off the saline taste of tears from his mouth, he thought, "But whats Hardware without its Software anyway?".

Just then, with a hint of threat in it, a stiff voice called out, "You've been out too long. Get back to work. Work. Work like a robot."

In a haste, he stepped to open the dustbin flap, crushed his drawings, filled his mug with yet another shot of caffeine and went back to his cubicle.

Chasing Deadlines.
Chasing Life.

Carpe Diem

Ah! Life, a probability
The game of chance,
of faith, of hope,
hopeless romance;
recollection, precision,
calculated decision,
deception, intrigue,
nail biting anticipation
never a win-win
its all but a gamble
favourableness, the odds
are all but a ramble
cuz even with
unbiased dice
being objective,
no virtue; no vice
oh right, you can even
maximize,
from a hundred rolls
you're free to learn
but admit it,
all said and done
you could never tell
the outcome of that
hundred-and-oneth turn

कल को कल में रहने दो

कबसे मन में आशाओं का
समुद्र था एक संजोया हुआ
उड़ कर पल में वो बादल सा
जा बैठा है आँखों के पीछे
बहने दो
अब बहने दो

उड़ गया समुद्र जो बादल बनके
तो बचा है केवल नमक वहाँ
चुभता है पल पल घावों पर
सहने दो
अब सहने दो

समय का खेल, पुरानी बातें
सहमा सा दिल, अधूरी मुलाकातें
कईं शब्दों के बीच कुछ शब्द अनकहे
कहने दो
अब कहने दो

भरी आँखें, दुखते घाव
छलकती हँसी, आस है बाकी
है हाल कुछ ऐसा, तो ऐसा ही
रहने दो
अब रहने दो

A Truth Unavowed

~
Beating, defeating
the guilt, disdain
Will the Eagle,
ever, soar again?

~
There it stood with eyes full of hope,
longing, belonging, heart ajar
Why did it forget it is but a Dragon
lonesome, bereft, scared, far

For
Eagles don't flock
and Dragons don't melt
Or perhaps they do
But you'll
never get to see
~
An Eagle's pain.
~
A Dragon's scar.

अब मैं आज़ाद हूँ

शीशे की दीवारों में
कैद था जाने कब से मन
कोशिश तो की
पर चाह नहीं थी
इन रंग भरी दीवारों को
तोड़ कर बहार आने की

इन नए नए रंगों में रोज़
जग दिखता कितना सुन्दर था
बाहर की बेरंग दुनिया से शायद
कैद भली थी शामियाने की

पर क्या हुआ जाने एक दिन
जो आस जगी अनोखी एक
दम घुटा और हमने फिर
तुड़वा डाला दीवारों को

टूटे शीशों का दर्द हुआ
नाज़ुक कोमल से पावो में
धुंधला गयी डरी सी नज़र
जब अश्क बहे इन आखों से

पर समय बीता
हम आगे बढ़े
कम हुआ दर्द और धुंधलापन
रह गए हम एकदम चकित जब
पाया जग को को और भी रौशन

हुए अचंभित चकाचौंध से
उल्लास भर गया रग रग में
नया है कितना कुछ देखने को
इस बहुप्रदर्शक जगमग जग में

ओ साथी तू भी निकल अब बाहर
क्यों शीशे में कैद, भयभीत है?
आ नाच यहाँ खुले आँगन में
इस नए जग का अजब ही कुछ संगीत है

Why I Write

Every time I write, no matter how badly, its like a part of me goes into the piece. Maybe that's why it feels light after penning down sad thoughts and happier after happy ones. 'Pain lessens and joy grows by sharing' they say. This couldn't be truer because every time I re-read these write-ups, it feels like a maturer me is now there to comfort, share and take control of the situation. :)

#Joys-Of-Writing 

#To-Pen-and-Pensive-Moods

एक मुखौटा मेरा भी

~
धरती थी प्यासी
जी कर आया की ऐसे बरसें बादल
हो जाए तृप्त हर पत्ता पत्ता

आसमान खुला था
बिजली भी चमकी, और हवा भी आई
पर वक़्त आने पर
बादलों ने बरसने से मना कर दिया

अब बादलों ने बरसने से मना कर दिया
तो इस
अतृप्त प्यास को कहाँ से बुझाऊं


~
नाव चली थी छोटी सी मेरी
तूफ़ान से लड़ने
करने सामना हर मुश्किल का

नाव भी थी
सन्नाटा भी आया
पर वक़्त आने पर
तूफ़ान ने आने से मना कर दिया

अब तूफ़ान ने आने से मना कर दिया
तो इस
सन्नाटे में ध्वनि कहाँ से लाऊं


~
उतावले थे पाँव मेरे
घुंघरुओं की ताल पर थिरकने को
ऐसे नाचूं की झूम उठे जग सारा

मन भी था
संगीत भी आया
पर वक़्त आने पर
घुंघरुओं ने छमकने से मना कर दिया

अब घुन्ग्रुओं ने छमकने से मना कर दिया
तो इस
बावरे मन को किस ताल पर नचाऊं


~
रात थी दिवाली की
सैंकड़ों दीयों में एक दिया मेरा भी था
बेचैन था जो  जलने को, अँधेरा उजागर करने को

दिया भी था
दिवाली भी आई
पर वक़्त आने पर
लौ ने जलने से मना कर दिया

अब लौ ने जलने से मना कर दिया
तो इस
दिये में आग कहाँ से लगाऊं


~
अपार प्यास
गहरा सन्नाटा
टूटे घुंघरू
बुझा हुआ दिया
उम्मीद भी है, और हसरत भी
पर तकदीर ने बदलने से मना कर दिया
तो इस
मुख पर हंसी कहाँ से लाऊं

Life, Live it, Love it. Unconditionally.

Seeing life through
Rose Coloured Glasses.
Everything seems
Genuine, sincere and pure.
Each action is naive
or done in frivolity.


You love someone?
You tell them.
Do not expect a reply.
This much, here
is a beautiful thing in itself.
Bask in it. Unconditionally.


You fought hard?
And even then you failed?
Calm yourself.
A deep breath there.
Failure is relative.
A sincere effort on your part
is all that matters.
Keep fighting. Unconditionally.


Regretful past?
Lofty dreams?
Unachievable targets?
Be easy on yourself.
Small steps at a time.
Dream on.
Live your passion
and love to live. Unconditionally.


Seeing life through
Rose Coloured Glasses.
Sometimes reality
strikes hard.
The numbing pain
gets unbearable.
Let that tear out.
But always remember to
put those glasses back on.
And smile at the world. Unconditionally.

Going Senile! Peekaboo!

You know you are losing it
When you realize in a sudden fit
You don't want to turn Twenty-four
Is only because it's such a bore
Unlike Twenty-three, which at least is a prime
Breakable, factorable, Twenty-four is a slime!
And as you warm up to "just one short, not quite there"
You'll be 'the overrated Twenty-five' in no time
And you'll broadcast it to dismissive people
With yet another silly post, a crappy rhyme!


#so-old-and-lazy-yet-crazy!

Living up to Expectations*

The loud, piercing voice, showering traces of spit under the hood of a hollow dark shadow, declared over his head, 

“What? You don’t even know the spelling of 

E.M.B.A.R.R.A.S.S.M.E.N.T?”

That's when the descent started really. From then on, the voices, now more of hissing and hushing, have been making sure he never misses that spelling again.

‘Life is a roller coaster ride’ they had said, but he wonders why, for him, the rickety ride up was always pleasurable and never the descent.  

*quite an oxymoron, isn't it?

Living free. My way.

"So what if I failed 
in what I started,
So what if I chanced it
and cried.
Because unlike you
I've 'lived' my way
and on my death bed, 
I proudly would say
No matter what 
my current state
At least, bloody hell, 
I tried.
It may have taken 
my ease away
but the spirit within 
never died"






Yes, they say, I walk like a boy
and oh my, do I care

Yes, I do talk loudly sometimes
cuz' I so love how they stare

Yes, one moment I'm laughing guts out
and another I'm crying like a child

Yes, and I like to eat and hog too
and choke and croak and leap out wild

Yes, for this they call me names I find funny
God bless my creativity or the lack of it

Yes, my jokes seldom amuse them
Bah, the witty fool with a foolish wit

Yes, I prefer randomness
these rules and control isn't just my thing

Yes, so I was never disciplined
that conformist pride I could never bring

Yes, they try to push me pull me
squash my heart and sway my mind

So yes, one day I'll breakaway
leaving this little note behind-

I'm going to risk it,
live life and play

My life is too important
to live it their way
and it's too short too
to pay heed to all the crap they say

For you, again.

Okay, so this is what an endless wait in Bangalore traffic does to you! 

#musings on why it never really sublimed

उतना आनद तुझे हार कर फिर जीतने में नहीं होगा
जितना अभिमान तुझे जीत कर भी तेरी हार में है |
वो जूनून तुझसे फिर मुलाक़ात में भी नहीं होगा
जो मज़ा तेरे इंतज़ार में है |


#a gentle whisper follows

“In your light I learn how to love. In your beauty, how to make poems. You dance inside me where no-one sees you, but sometimes I do, and that sight becomes this art.” ― Rumi