I wish...

I wish I could hold time and hack into the day when I was choosing which college to single out for my graduation. Rather, which course to pick! I would have preferred journalism lessons instead of settling on English (honors) classes. But alas, time doesn’t take the pain of reversing itself, come what may!

Though I am not feeling much forlorn for what I did then (it’s been six years now), but still wish I had brooded over it comprehensively, taking into account my long-term goals. (I would be happier and at an advantage today). But no qualms now (though I have alluded to it already… bang, bang, bang!).

This ‘I wish…’ reverie is seen, rather fantasized, by almost everybody (and if you think you are an exception, you must be a genius I must say). We act, we regret and we wish… to alter those follies, don’t we? Many a time, we do get a break to put it right, but when we realize that a particular wish can only be pulled off in a fairy land, we yet again regret (for the moment we slipped up) and we yet again wish.

I overheard my parents once (not so long ago), wherein my mom was being apprehensive about her own demeanor of treating my younger brother and letting him do whatever on earth he wanted to, since his very early age (now that he is 12 years old, he is ‘famously’ labeled as a spoilt brat). Even after those 12 long years and even after knowing she was left with the choice of mere wishing, she couldn’t resist saying, “I wish I could have controlled him in a much better way.”

A wish is spawned when either we really desire to do something (at present or in future) or we really covet we should have done something else instead of a particular endeavor, in the past. Well, not going into the philosophical sense of what I just said, let’s hop on to a yet another phase in the process instead. When ‘I wish…’ is fulfilled by ‘wish granted’, what follows is… well, a fresh wish of course!

Indira Gandhi must have, once upon a time, wished to become the prime minister of India; she also must have committed a few mistakes and wished to have been more serene and sensible in those moments. Amitabh Bachchan and Shahrukh Khan, the Shehenshah and the badshah of the Bollywood respectively, must have fancied ruling over the Indian film industry (no matter how modestly they state they didn’t!). In a nutshell, an achievement is the outcome of a wish.

Just imagine how dull and dreary a life would be, if there are no wishes. Wishes, undoubtedly, make a life action-packed. If truth be told, a wish always helps you live in an affirmative and optimistic atmosphere.

“I have no more wishes to make now, ever in my life,” ever heard someone saying this? No! You won’t! Reason being very simple… every person wishes to have something more that what he already possesses. It does hurt and upset us when a wish is not fulfilled, but even then, we can’t refuse to give in to wishing afresh.

Being a girl…

As I decided to write on women issues, I found myself up the creek. It is, indeed, a daring job demanding spunk in you to produce such ‘real’ incidents. So here I am… writing my first such piece; not going far, I penned down my experiences so far.

My grandparents (predominantly the female one) wished for a grandson when I was in my mother’s womb. And all hell broke loose the day I was born. My first experience as a girl! Thanks to my parents (once again, predominantly the female one), they loved me.

“Your grandma refused to even cross the threshold of the hospital ward to take a look at you,” my mother gave me this depressing piece of information when I insisted on her for this. It only left me grief-stricken. “And the moment she saw you for the first time, all she said was, ‘She looks like my son and it would have been better if the god had sent her being a boy’.” Now you can ascertain why I can’t bear crossing my grandma’s threshold.

Is it really important to own a son/grandson that my grandma had forgotten while commenting on my gender that she herself belonged to the same group? I guess, yes! Else, she wouldn’t have ever been able to latch on the difference between these two sexes; now, when she is old enough to use a stick while walking, she is not looked after by her so-called sons (three, she has!), but is given regular visits by her daughters and daughters-in-law to enquire after her health! And she knows what she has lost – my love (and respect, to some extent) for her.

Anyway, let’s come back to my experiences part. A pungent treatment at the very first day of my life was an indicator for such impending episodes awaiting me at almost every stage. From the parts that are fixed in my mind, I shall sally forth with the time when I was in class III. As far as I can commit to my memory, I rubbed eyeballs with the very first occasion of harassment in my life when a boy from my class itself wrote my name with an ‘I love you’ message on the girls’ washroom door. It only left me in tears, as I didn’t know what else to do when I was the object of everybody’s gazes in my class. This boy was given a tight slap each by my mother and my class-teacher the very next day.

The next year followed, so did such affairs. I can never overpass one incident that rolled in when I was in class VII. Every morning I used to enter my class, I would find one letter placed on my desk – an anonymous love letter! Its content (that asked me “not to discuss it with anyone or I’ll defame you”) terrorised me to the extent that I feared every boy present in my class. I don’t know why I got so scared of the word ‘defame’, albeit I had no real idea what it actually meant! But the kind of milieu created by that single word had left me vulnerable. And so is the state of many females’ minds that keep their dumps and blues uncurtained.

Well, in due course, I was informed by one of my classmates (a boy, to be precise) about the person behind all this. A boy I thought was a very good friend of mine was the culprit! And I was standing with my class teacher with all those letters the very next moment; that offender was penalised severely – a week’s suspension from the school! And this time, I did it all by myself, without calling my mother to school the next day.

I have lost the count of such episodes I chanced upon when I was in school. Thanks to my mother, she never let me resign myself to the so-called fate of a girl in this society. But what about those deprived girls with no mothers bracing them up at such hours of need? They end up loosing their confidence levels much before bricking it up. Parents are our maiden teachers; if they don’t endow us with buoyancy, then who would? And when it comes to building up a girl’s mental state in a country like India, it becomes even more imperative.

If institutions like schools and colleges are not considered safe for women, then why to blame open roads? One fine morning (sometime in 2007), I left home for office only to stumble on yet another bad trip to add to my kitty. This time, it was an obnoxious bus journey! I boarded the vehicle and within a few minutes, I discovered that a jam-packed bus could be a nightmare, especially for girls, for then those frightened-in-the-open hands don devil-may-care spirit. And that day was no exception! But the only difference was that I turned and gave that hideous fiend a tight slap in the face. And believe you me, he felt really humiliated and got off the bus as soon as it stopped at the next stop. Once again the question goes to those countless females who remain tight-lipped in such situations, which only provoke the wrongdoers to move one step ahead followed by turning into rapists at times – aren’t you yourselves behind your miseries related to molestation issues to some extent?

These are a few incidences I could recount due to the shortage of space. But the two messages I wanted to put across are, I guess, clear. One, to the parents (especially mothers) – girls are not meant to be dominated. Instill loads of confidence in them to face the world and fight all their battles themselves. Two, to the females – you are not the weaker of the two sexes. Take an immediate action at the very first sign of any sort of abuse and put an end to further chances.

Spit, shit…come off it

“Shit! …. Thank god! It didn’t dribble on my clothes,” I gasped and expressed gratitude towards my god at the same time, in a split moment, staring at the man who was just on the brink of spoiling my day. The man in question was nobody I knew. An absolute stranger! But that couldn’t impede me from awarding him with the most grisly stare I have ever given to anyone in my life. No, this is not an episode of a roadside molestation at a busy bus stop. This is a centuries old notorious custom that has clasped a large section of Indian society. Yes, I am talking about those who do not mind dirtying a public place in order to release themselves off dirt!

They are criminals. There should be laws against those who carelessly spoil the roads; others have to be extra careful to even move a step forward. I remember an unpleasant incident that just came to pass when once I was walking leisurely on a not-so-crowded road. A lady, probably in her late twenties, was ahead me. We stopped at a bus stop, so did a bus to stack it with maximum number of passengers (as is the tradition followed by all the buses). Before I could realize, a spray of orange-brown paan (several ounces of it, to be precise) someone in the bus had been chewing came flying out of the window and nestled right on the head of the lady in front of me, spilling a few drops on her shoulder. The dumbstruck woman couldn’t believe her fate (and I thanked mine for obvious reasons); and before she would have evened the score with the offender (I wonder what she would have done!), the bus had already made a move.

The desolation doesn’t come to a halt here. You can’t trust looking downwards while walking on an Indian road, especially near areas like bus stops, vegetable markets, small narrow lanes, construction zones, and many more. A sickening dash of sloppy spit, a careless way of blowing nose, an intolerable stance of tossing banana peels and other fruits’ seeds, etc. are simply dreadfully annoying to the individual who happens to glance at it. Another negligent approach is letting one’s pets excrete in the open (do they follow the same ‘negligent’ attitude inside their dwelling places as well?). Now that is what the extreme chance of all to curse those grumpy roads and the anonymous doers!

What calls for a serious attention here is few steps to be taken, not only by the government but also by both the individuals – one, who are responsible for such acts; two, who are the victims (starting your day with such ugly experiences is in itself a suffering, isn’t it?). If asked me, I would like our government to outline an austere rule of fining (a hefty amount of money) the wrongdoer the moment he executes such outrageous act. The goaded citizens should come up with their active participation via alerting the ‘criminals’ as and when such affairs transpire. And last but not the least, the offenders should themselves have to understand that if they won’t like the idea of smudging their homes’ floors and walls with spits, paan-sprays, their pets’ craps, vegetables and fruits’ peels, then why do they do the same to the country they claim is their own?

Chatting or cheating…

Rahul: hi sweety…
Priya: hi
Rahul: long time no see
Priya: yeah, I was undergoing exams…just got over…
Rahul: hmmmm….missed you so much……so how is life?
Priya: not bad, after the exams…what about you…and how is neha?
Rahul: she is ok…
Priya: how are her classes going on? I heard she is working somewhere now?
Rahul: hmmm…
Priya: where is she working?
Rahul: don’t remember the name exactly…somewhere in gurgaon
Priya: what? C’mon Rahul…she is your girlfriend. You should know such things about her…anyway, you guys still meet at the same place in the evenings?
Rahul: c’mon priya…stop asking about her…enough…lets talk something else…we are chatting after soooooooooooooooooo long
Priya: I know….so how have you been all this while?
Rahul: oh…desperate to chat with you…you know how much I miss you and the chats with you every night…
Priya: yeah I know…so how did you survive without chatting with me?
Rahul: don’t ask dear…had become mad…thank god you came online today, else I would have died…
Priya: oops…I saved your life…so what do I get?
Rahul: whatever you want baby
Priya: ammm….what about a movie this weekend…and a nice dinner thereafter?
Rahul: amazing plan….. I’m game for it…will call you tomorrow to fix the date and time
Priya: anytime…
Rahul: it’ll be fun…dying to meet you…it’s been so long…
Priya: very true…fine then…will wait for your call tomorrow
Rahul: I won’t let you wait for long dear…will call you first thing in the morning…
Priya: how sweet
Rahul: I know you are sweet…
Priya: okay then…I’ll go and sleep now…bye…goodnight
Rahul: no…..don’t go…plzzzzzzzzz
Priya: very sleepy…will talk later…sorry
Rahul: :(
Priya: c’mon Rahul…we are meeting this weekend…cheer up now
Rahul: :(
Priya: okay fine…….but only for 10 minutes…and then I’ll be gone to sleep…
Rahul: hurray…….you are a darling…
Priya: and you are a cute darling…
…….
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And the chat goes on and on… minute after minute… night after night…. Until Neha, the poor girlfriend, comes to know of this secret liaison one fine (oops…is it really fine?) day. And then follow those redundant explanations Rahul tries to appease (rather fool) her with. “It was nothing serious baby. Just for fun sake,” assures Rahul. Now what I don’t understand here is the context behind this ‘fun sake’. Does it mean that the ‘poor’ Rahul was bored to tears that he had to (mind it, HAD to) say those things? Or, does it entail that the ‘clever’ Rahul was merely checking if he still had that charm to magnetize a girl? Or, even more possible, does it imply that the ‘poor’ Rahul – who was probably unable to see that fire anymore in his existing relationship – desired to be called a ‘clever’ Rahul by giving himself a better option? Well, you have the liberty of adding even more possibilities to it…be my guest.

It is not just one case; the episode is repeated in many such relationships. One boy, one girl…see each other, talk, become friends, talk even more, exert a pull on one another, one proposes, other accepts…love in full swing…for how long?…one month…six months…two years…three years…. And then arrives that ‘fine’ day…a day that puts a question mark at the lovey-dovey bond!

If the ‘cheated’ (yes, we’ll later argue if such act of flirting on net is actually called cheating or not) partner gives a second chance to the ‘cheater’ (again, this will also be discussed) one, then either he/she is making the best decision or he/she is the dumbest person on this planet. Best because he/she is a soul with practical thinking and can see the genuine feeling of regret in the eyes of his/her partner; dumbest because he/she, despite knowing the flirtatious side of his/her partner, keeps blessing him/her with umpteen chances…every time, the ‘last’ one!

Now come to the most important part… should flirting on the internet via chatting, mails be called cheating?

Well, if you are already committed, then it is cheating. In that case, I strongly feel that your running relationship is not moving and ‘real’ enough to keep you loyal towards one person and thus, you go on a partner-hunt (yes, this is what I call it). And that IS cheating. If you disagree with me, then it could be because of two reasons. One, you have a better and more valid point to argue my statement; two, you yourself are one of those cheaters. Decide where you fall.

Friend or fiend…

It’s been days since I wrote last…. Sometime in May. Not my fault exactly, I have been keeping really busy all this while (the work was kind of futile though). So today is the day! But now I am wondering what to write about, as most of the issues I would have cherished to pore over have already been sheltered by those who had ‘that’ time.

Okay, I’ve got it! I’ll tell you about someone I thought was very close to my heart, someone I trusted the way a newborn would be sure about only the best from his mother, someone I made my sounding board. And someone who backstabbed me! Exactly the way that newborn, after growing into a successful man (thanks to his mother’s years of dedication showered on him), would one fine day abandon ship his mother has been sailing throughout her life, for the huge sake of ‘moving on’ in life. If you are thinking this ‘someone’ to be a lover (boyfriend, to be precise), it’s not your fault; I have outlined it in a way anyone would confuse it for a boyfriend. To cut the long story short, it is a friend sans ‘boy’.

Yes, a friend indeed…but with strictly a tag – ‘not in need’! She talked, she exchanged secrets, she fought, she reconciled. She again talked, she again exchanged secrets, she again fought, she again reconciled. And this ‘looking back’ was always there...to relive the same moments over and over. I could never realize I was playing a fool. I believed her every time she tried to bridge the differences. And I never had an idea I was digging my own grave.

Well, now that you know it’s a girl – who, masking as a true friend, turned out to be a real fiend – let me not go into the curtain-rising via telling what she is called by everyone (of course, I have a new name to address her now). Anyway, let’s get back to the days that have given me a chance to remove that mask off her face – the beginning. Had I not stretched my hand towards her for a friendship (yes, I approached her first), I wouldn’t have been talking to you at this moment (thanks but no thanks).

The formal gesture graduated to a great bond (a so-called one) between us and that eventually went on to be called a non-separable pair (do I need to re-mention her regular attempts to set things back to normal after every clash?). While I was under impression she was a gift from God, I let her read every single line from my life-book; she reciprocated. That I later got to know she lied every time is a yet another stab altogether!

One more fight and I settled on never to let her sway me into a yet another ‘fresh’ start (I wish I really could live up to my words).

She convinced me one more time and I simply couldn’t help being entrapped…this time, to witness the worst!

And one day…when I was unaware of her tactics pre-planned in her mind…her ‘real’ identity was disclosed to me…stab, stab, stab! She had been betraying not only me, but also the word ‘friend’. Trespassed all the borders in conning me, she went on and on to wear the guts on her sleeve of still showing she was a great friend!

When all is said and done, let’s not go into the ugly-layered details of what actually happened to twist and turn the whole story. Just check and make certain you are not surrounded by any such fiend in the disguise of a friend….