Tuesday, February 3, 2015

Battling The Workplace Bachelors

Yes. Does the title of this post look ridiculous? Or you are under the impression that this is all about sexual advances that bachelors make at work? Well, no , it isn’t. Because, workplace bachelors may not sexually hit on fellow married women or mothers like you and me, but they do 'hit' us where it bothers more – our time.
If the question is how, then let me paint a very realistic picture for you. I pack my bag at 5:30, and I like to move out of office just as the clock strikes 6. Yes, I do get the regular "6 baj gaye kya", stares and comments from other male colleagues, but these bachelors, they are something else. Unlike most married men, they do not have someone waiting, and are available all through the evening. They might be one big reason why your husband returns late from work. They talk nicely, are mostly well behaved, but they have all the time that we women definitely do not have and our husbands are "supposed" to have. The late evening meetings, discussions and office gossips – you call it and they do it. And poor your husband, even if he wanted to come to home, he cannot. Come on, 'protocol' does matter! While men can compete with them, to a large extent, we women simply lose the game. So when my boss gives me those 'comparable' looks – that says that why cannot I come to work on Saturday, why can't I stay up late and complete that presentation, or why cannot I attend that official dinner? The list is endless, and while my bachelor colleague is all up and ready for it, I simply have no choice but to run a sorry look.

Why?
Because we women probably have a warm home to go to. Bachelors generally stay in groups, have hired cooks, and just reach their homes only to crash in their beds. While we women, married or not married, have some calls to be made to the family, might cook, will have some laundry to attend to, and a book waiting to be read by the bedside. These workplace bachelors have no social life – beyond the office- they generally do not have girlfriends, have the least inclination to get married, and act as the 'joker' for the bosses' sake. Be it that empty cylinder, or picking up the daughter from work – they are there. And we, we just cannot be there.

So how do we battle them?
We cannot. No seriously. Be honest, would you like to go and pick up the bosses' daughter from her school because she just puked? Or drop the wife for shopping because she doesn't like to drive and is too fab to hire the auto? Can you take that 11 pm flight to the new place of operation leaving the house as it is - messed and incomplete? Or, worse, when everyone home is enjoying with the family you math up the client statements with the expenditures? Nah.
Drop it here. Do not bother. Remember, those who have no life , they have the office. The desi MNCs are cultivating a league of work population whose productivity might be high, but social life is negative. Maybe, that's where you and I score. Ain't it better to lose this one?

Sunday, August 25, 2013

The Sick Indian Man: Is this title FORCED OR INVITED??

Well, this is a funny incident. Just a few days ago, I had posted an update on my facebook wall regarding dowry. It just cropped up from the frustration that a female friend is currently experiencing. While her parents are on a hunt for a groom, she gets disheartened by the fact that so many educated men just keep a "mum face" when their parents dictate the lists of "required gifts" to her family. It ranges from electronics like TV, Home Theatre, Microwave, Washing Machine to expensive cars and hard cash. Some even go upto the extent of asking a flat. Yes, she herself is earning a good salary, and surviving on her own in a big city. She is pretty, and if you really ask me, humble. So every time she meets someone and she tends to like him, all this simply crashes her heart with a tremendous blow.

So, the other day, one of my male friends reacted to the update quite fiercely. He said that girls look for well settled, 5-figure earning boys from respectable family. So what’s the harm? He also said that desire for a comfortable life is not gender specific. So if the girl desires a comfortable life, the boy does too. This dowry , or gifts by girls family help the couple to establish themselves. Later on he told me that since I have all the bad people in my life, hence I view everyone like that. And yes, my choice of friends is pathetic, and I am responsible for it. Come to think of it, he just got arrange-married a few months ago. It looked like it hit him really hard, and I happened to instigate a sore wound.

I do not say every man is a dowry seeker, rapist, molester or abusive. Yes, there are many many of them who refuse dowry, struggle for a base, and yet give a comfortable life to the family. They beam in the pride of self made men, and we all appreciate that. But what about others? Isn’t the Indian man himself ashamed because of the recent events? I remember reading somewhere an article by a man about his soreness on being with females around. Deep within every man knows that no friend, no sister, no wife is safe, and they are being eyed suspiciously. Is it because of the women? No.

It is because of the men themselves. How many of us are not intimidated when we see we have to share a seat with a man for a long night journey. How many of us do not feel scared to be alone with male colleagues? Does the thought of brushing with a men in a jampacked bus not make us drop it and take another one? Do we not fear the demands when we go to our inlaws houses? Are we not worried about the family’s incessant taunts? Ofcourse we women laugh when we see punches on us as being shopaholics, bad drivers, and we all love all those wife/sister/girlfriend jokes everyone shares. Now does that mean every woman goes weak in the knees when she sees “SALE”? Or every sister is stupid? Or every girl friend is bitchy?
Look around, I am sure you will have many, many exceptions.

All in all, I just want to say that we all know all men are not alike, but come to think of it, the “good men” do not carry a special mark or a tag. If this SICK INDIAN MAN title pinches the men, they ought to do something about it themselves. They cannot keep on arguing with hundreds and thousands of women who believe men, known or unknown are a danger. Men need to understand if shopaholic describes a woman, let the words dowry seekers and rapists not describe a man.

No Another Chance.


A string in my heart,
An unseen wound.

The heart wrenching cries,
The unheard sound.

The tremble of my lips,
Dismissed as cold.

The moist eyes,
Misjudged as reaction.

A deep pain somewhere,
A sign of bodily malfunction.

The clumsiness, the tiredness,
Signs of Exhaustion.

The expecting mind,
A Stupid manifestation.

Long hours at Office,
Work related frustration.

The packing of bags,
Another childish exaggeration.

And When I say I am leaving,
A surprised, angry demonstration.

You never read the signs,
Its your ignorance.

Sometimes, Life simply refuses,
To give another chance.






Tuesday, March 26, 2013

Looking Back and Smiling.. :)

I am not sure how many of us always take the correct decisions in life, and find them fulfilling our desires, atleast to the levels of our expectations. I, for one, have never been that blessed; I end up screwing myself over and over again, more often than not. Maybe that is the reason my life has ended up nowhere near my imagination, but yet so different and crazily unusual than the mundane ones people might be leading – with regrets, fears, and the constant stride to make their life perfect.

No, its not that I haven’t tried to make my life the way it should be – perfect in senses more than one; but let me admit, I have failed miserably in that. I have dumped relationships, screwed my career, been drunk, have had overnight crushes, jumped to conclusions, asked silly questions, shopped heavily on credit cards, been to vocal with my feelings when not required, and have been suspiciously silent when the need was to utter something. Believe me, there have been regrets, tears of pessimism, feeling of loneliness, a sad aura surrounding me for a great share of my life. I have faked relationships, having presented myself in the most pretentious way. I have tried to ignore questions that questioned my decisions. Yes, you name it and I have done it all.

But what did I get of all this? Nothing pretty much in cash and kind, but something that no one can ever take from me, nor pass it onto me. These are some lessons and experiences, some funny moments and great bindings , some nerve wrecking tiredness and disgusting comments, some encouragement and some exasperation's, reactions from people – friends, relatives, acquaintances and even on lookers. It may be sounding incredibly odd, but looking back at each stupid decision’s outcome, I have found myself to be a stronger, independent woman, with baggage; yes; yet having a thrilling time as my movie seems to have surprise for me every second day.

The road I tread is not smooth, but with puddles, muddles, speedbreakers, and lots and lots of pebbles; somehow it has turned to be my choice, and I feel responsible for taking it up from here as my own.

I got to trust myself, look back and smile, for no one knows how and why I did something, that was probably not right in the right sense of the word, but there could have nothing better than that for me.



Ahh,,,I smile again…


Mind- As a Ruler

The mind is a wonderful thing…It perceives and conceives, alleges and defines, accuses and absolves, dreams and builds, creates and destroys, all in all, It does anything and everything, freely, without any inhibitions or fear, and it always reasons its own righteousness over everything, and above everyone else. The mind, while at work, defies all logic. Its only the mind that can break all rules, yet be on the side of the law. It can taste the forbidden, and take savour the betrayals, and indulge itself in all that is sinned. It makes you crave for what is rightfully not yours, and creates a fantasy land wherein you can spoil yourself to the hilt. It is the mind that makes opinions, and justifies them by the most absurd of logics; it is the one that creates notions, and prevents one from differentiating between the right and the wrong. The mind assumes itself as being the supreme power, and the supremacy dissolves into forced acceptance of views. When in control of the mind, the logic takes a backseat, and assumptions lead the way. Everything and everyone else seems immoral, and the definitions change.

All this not a beginning, but an end, an end to modesty and dignity, an end to the right course of thought and inference, and end to sound judgment and good sense, and beginning of impracticality, insanity and unreasonableness.





Tuesday, October 23, 2012

It wasn’t only me who you raped.

It wasn’t only me who you raped.

It was your mother’s caring touch that you exterminated,
Its was her drape of aristocracy that you tore apart,
It was her womb that you have blemished forever,
It was your mother’s cry for death.

It wasn’t only me who you raped.

You raped your sister walking on the road.
You ripped the smile that made your world complete.
You profaned her heart of sanity,
You breached your rakhi vows.

It wasn’t only me who you raped.

You raped your father’s trust, and his standing as a man,
You slit his dreams of rubbing his shoulders with you,
You made him question the steps he taught you,
You are a son, whom he will never want.

It wasn’t only me who you raped.

You raped your friends of innocence,
You razed their trusts to ground,
You are a memory that will never be spoken of,
You are a wretch that will never be pardoned.

It wasn’t only me who you raped.

You played with my body,
But you annihilated your soul forever,
I will begin a life, for I am not at fault,
But as lonely as you are,
You never find solace anywhere.

You are a father, to whom no child will ever want to be born,
You are a man whose wife would never be safe,
You will be a son, that no mother will call her own,
Your sister may never trust you with her honor.


You are God’s shame, And you thought I lost it all,
It may be one night for me,
But it hover over you for entire life,
You are dead, yet alive,

Coz it just wasn’t only me who you raped.




Monday, May 28, 2012

RELEASED ---- FROM LOVE TO LOVE

She lit the cigarette…her fourth in about two hours. She only smoked because she knew it hurt him, basically, it was the only thing he seemed to react to. A tear traced its journey from the end of her eye as she took a deep puff inside; she’d grown immune to the taste, bitter as it was, yet she relished it, for she knew the smell made him take notice of her.

‘Notice of me’; she shook her head. What was it she wanted from a relationship? Were the movies reflecting there charismatic sets in her desires? Is it so bad to ask for love? Another puff. Her relationships have always gone haywire, what is it that she’s looking for? She expected words of love, yes she did; she also wanted some time alone with him, she wanted him to tell her how he felt about her, all those things that she’d read and seen and heard. Was it too much to ask for? As she burst crying, she took a deep puff, letting the smoke in the air accompanied with bouts of cough. Why do people do not feel the need to tell each other that they cared and loved after a while? And when does everything and everyone becomes taken for granted? Was she trying too hard, or was he finding a way out?

Way out? The words echoed in her mind, being louder than her cough bouts. What did they say about committing oneself to love and all that concerned with it? What a fool she has been, she cursed herself aloud…No , these stupid commitments are not forever, they are used only as an additional measure to make one loose stupid minds to their hearts, and everything starts looking different. Or maybe it simply puts to rest all mushy mushy things, signaling that we are on a serious tread, we will be together all our lives, we share a house and a bed, and that’s all. Who has the time to make you feel loved everyday? You are loved, once said, must last a life time. Then why can’t she be like him? Why is she restless? Why does she kiss him every morning she wakes up, while he seems to dwell away in his sleep? Why does she unfailingly wait for him in the bedroom so that he would make her sleep in his arms, when she knows his preference is the television? Why does a feeling of hurt crosses her mind when she sees a couple hand in hand on the streets, when she couldn’t remember when did they last walked a few miles purposelessly? Why did her friends open love notes for each other fill her mind with exasperation? NO, he doesn’t need a wayout, SHE DID.

She pressed the cigarette butt on the ash tray, wiped her tears and dashed towards the mirror. The kajal seemed to be everywhere except her eyes, her face looked red and bleak, her eyes radiated loneliness and she was clearly a failed example. No, this can’t be, she thought to herself, I love him the way I do, and am not dependent on his love, but on mine. They are gonna be together, only that she wouldn’t be pressing him notice, she would herself make her unnoticeable to him, for she’d immerse in world that she will create for himself, where he needn’t be there in person, but only as her thoughts. She’d still kiss him mornings, yet not expect to be kissed back. She’d do everything for him that she will feel right, yet never blink an eye when he’d suggest otherwise.

A nice hot shower released her body from the pain. She’d not cried anymore. She threw the pack of cigarettes in the dustbin, and simply got on with her official assignment.


**** After dinner, she wished him good night and went to bed. He probably expected her to call upon, she didn’t. She finished her read, and slept peacefully, knowing he will be by her side when she wakes up the next morning. ****


She’d released herself in letting him go.
She’d freed herself from the expectations she had from him

.


It wasn’t easy, she still gets desperate sometimes, but then she hasn’t lost her love, it keeps her going – with or without him.

I became Strong, when you set me Free.
And I became even Stronger;
When I LET you GO.