Sunday, March 21, 2010

An Abstract Thought....

An Abstract Thought....
Bombay.
A city of paradox
A city of......
Local trains
      seasoned pains
staggered ques
     gratifying blues
Fantastic sterlite
     foolhardy erudite
perturbed emotions
     stained devotions
scribbled monopolies
     perfect anamolies
galloping scanties
     dangling panties
foreign land
    A Bomb-Bay!!

A city can't
    it won't
    stop you.
An year can't
   but might
   change you.

94.......it was
a crucial 95....
do not let you
dreams die.
      no resolutions
      only solutions
      no cerebrations
      only celebrations
      no ego-lies
      only informal ties
      curb emotions
      but dedications.

Life is fast
nothing lasts
except your dares
and career stairs
move a-top and tap
feel the oblivious nap!

Let.......
95 charge your crosses
and turn it to
gaiety and success.

This was written in 1995 by someone whose thought process still provokes me today. Although simple in it's verbiage, the meaning has carried through to touch and profoundly change one's outlook in life, well, at least mine. I owe this person more than the inspiration he gives me....my future. Thank you, my darling husband.

Wednesday, March 17, 2010

Garlands of Power

 I am naive in my political opinions and possibly standing. I firmly believe politics is a platform to serve one's country, a stage to propagate national and international policies that would be beneficial not just to the citizens of one's country, but perhaps also create a far-reaching positive impact on the rest of the world. Politicians are the selfless vessels through whom the betterment of society and the country as a whole occurs. WHAT??? Just dreaming!!

I have a very simple political view: If you want my vote, cut the crap and do the work! But, as I learn to navigate the black holes of Indian politics, I realize this view is not supported by many of my voting colleagues, and definitely not by most of the politicians vying for my vote.

The state in which I currently reside is infamous for it's class-caste divide politics. For those unfamiliar with this term, it is basically (a gross misuse of) a system based on various societal and professional divisions that dated back to the ancient Vedic system. It's application in modern times not only undermines a country's ability but also it's potential to keep up with the world. in this day and age. Retrogressive thinking!! However, in the recent past, one woman has been able to bridge this gap and attain the highest government office of the state. This woman has managed to do something very few politicians (male/ female) could even conceive of doing. Rising out of the lowest strata of society she is now the Chief Minister (similar to the Governor, for my non-Indian friends). She is the pinnacle of power in a state that boasts the highest female infanticide, the lowest educated population, and infrastructural holes that whole buses could sink in.

Touted as a fighter and a go-getter, she has been able to amass a following that would put Gandhi to shame, literally. Her political power and ardent fan following have ensured that she also has vast amount of money at her disposal. Money that we, citizens, have paid in taxes, and others gifted to her. And, disposal is what she's done! For a state whose basic needs are far from met, this woman has accomplished things that goes far beyond the reaches of politics. Life-sized memorial statues of her, in imported sand stone, litter every open available space, with a few interspersed statues of her Gurus. Temples, devoted to her religious denomination promising solitude and peace, have been built on once forested areas on the banks of the local river, obviously too noisy for peace and solitude. Birthday parties and rallies, for herself and sometimes her Gurus, a few times a year that dwarf even Micheal Jackson's funeral costs.

But why am I complaining? The woman's a spender!! Which woman isn't? Only a few days ago she gave a birthday party that cost her a piddly $44 million, a tiny drop in the budgetary ocean. But, the pièce de résistance was the garland bestowed on her by her party members, probably at her insistence. A garland that featured no flowers, made of paper that would set someone back as little as $1 million, give ( not or take) a few hundred thousand. And what of the uneducated population, of the millions of children who don't get food, shelter, clothing or medicines, of the girl child who is killed for being a girl, of the millions of women who live in oppression, of the men who can't find jobs?


People, go get your own!

Sunday, March 7, 2010

Bruised

'I'm a lover not a fighter', has to be the most unrealistic cliche I've ever come across. Most of us, in our lifetime, have verbal spars, unless you have a younger brother who needs an ass-whooping. But as adults, hand-to-hand combat is unheard of, especially by women in their mid-thirties and forties. Most of the stories one reads in the news dramatisize how women face physical abuse from a multitude of adversaries, most of them succumbing to their wounds, the lucky ones being scared for life either physically, psychologically or both. Are women truely the weaker sex? I think not!!


Being a woman doesn't just entail the emotional, spiritual, and psychological strength that is bestowed on us. Yes, these are of great advantage in any situation, but the one very obvious disadvantage meted out to us is the lack of physical strength. So, if I were lost in a dark alley, surrounded by men, after more than my virtue, would I be able to, not just, defend, but fight them? I found out the answer.


As many of you are aware I partake in weekly Karate practice. I am a novice, in the most basic form of the word, but where I lack in technique I make up in gusto. Yesterday, we had our first combat spar, monitored by our sensei, to prevent the letting of blood. Paired up against an opponent of the same skill level still didn't prepare me for what was to follow. Kicking and punching for two rounds, I acquired my first combat wounds, a bruised face, a  broken foot and a pain in the ass you would not believe. But I also acquired something else. An adreneline rush to match no other drug, confidence to stand my ground, discipline to hold out till truly needed, and an ability to strategize an attack in a span of seconds. 


I'm in excrusiating pain today, my aging body's protest against the torturous routine I put it through. But I feel like a teenager who has just discovered that I can be invincible. I may look like a woman who'd be unable to lift an ax, let alone swing one (imagine Calista Flockhart without an eating disorder). But I now know my true potential as a woman and will not hesitate to use my newest skill, if needed (imagine Angelina Jolie in Mr. & Mrs Smith).


So, if I ever find myself in a situation that requires me to fight, you'd better believe, I'll kick ass and like it too!


Happy Women's Day!

Tuesday, March 2, 2010

Hot Flashes

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It's unusual for me to be requested to write about something serious, since I don't easily do serious. But, I was tagged by a good friend and a fellow blogger to write for International women's day, and since I'm always up for a challenge, here goes.

Sixteen in a tough age, regardless of your gender. But being a sixteen year old teenage girl, with a newly acquired svelte figure, raging hormones, handling school, work and boys can be especially tough when going through menopause.

The symptoms were vague to begin with. Emotional outbursts ranging from joy and precious laughter to inconsolable sobbing. It was hard to pinpoint anything in the early days, since the episodes were sporadic. Days would go by with nothing of note and then suddenly...BAM!! there would be fits of rage, the likes of which I'd seldom seen. As months progressed, the melancholy set in. Listlessness pursued with an indifference that could have bordered on  manic depression. But life went on. I was clueless as to why this was happening, but was sure it was happening, regardless of the constant denials. There wasn't a name for this condition, at least not in my limited vocabulary, then.

The worst part about the whole thing, I couldn't talk to anyone about it. My friends, at the time, were too busy making out or making plans to make out, for me to even consider approaching them. Dad, my fall guy, was conveniently missing in action, whenever I'd think about pouring my heart out. The younger brother, well, I don't actually remember him being in the house on most days, was a no go. That left the only person capable of easing my mind, mom. But every time I'd breach the topic, she'd wave it off as nothing.

I am now in my mid thirties, have three children and feel the onset of the same symptoms. I'm too young for this, just as I was at sixteen! But this time round I'm prepared. I'm now fully aware of my body and it's changes, knowing that changes are coming that I probably will not have control over. I know I'm going to have to enlist support. I've gone as far as warning my husband of the impending doom and sensitizing my children to the emotional turmoil that is set forth in their future. I'm going to get through this menopause knowing full well the emotional, physical and psychological hell I may encounter.

 No, I'm not going to make the same mistakes as my mother!


I tag 3 of my fellow bloggers:
Trendsetters
Shades of Grey
Ash's Corner

Monday, March 1, 2010

Thank you

I'm going to take this opportunity first to say thank you to all of you who read this dribble, and are still coming back for more. Since most of you who read this are family, your verbal comments (good & bad) are constant, and for that I am grateful and pissed, since none of you can be bothered to write your comments.

For those readers who are not related by blood or marriage, my sincerest gratitude. Although my comment box is nearly always empty, some of you (who know me) have made the effort of calling and letting me know what you think of my blog/posts. The encouragement I've received has been phenomenal.

 With that in mind, I had  written the story (please read last post) for a competition, set up by a group of writers a few thousand miles away. The jury is finally out...... I was the second winner!! Now I know you're probably thinking 'yeah, but it ain't first place'. The fact that I managed to get a mention by a bunch of professional writers was a win for me. By the way, they also decided to send a prize for the second place winner, which wasn't in the rules to start with....that's gotta mean something.

Well, I'm going to get off my high horse and thank everyone of you once again for being the chocolate to my pudding.