Lost

The spark that fizzled out before its time

The jewel that nobody wore because it lost its shine

The night that passed by without any mystery

The moment that was miraculous but didn't quite make history

The blood that spilled without a reason

The chill that was cursed because it wasn't the season

The shoes that never found the right feet

The friends that drifted because there was never enough time to meet

The words that weren't spoken for fear of one

The bruises that didn't heal because you were scared to have fun

The colleague you didn't help because it wasn't your job

The sunshine you missed because it was always too hot

The perfume you didn't wear because it was for special days

The lover you secretly long for since you went your own ways

The souvenir you saved that doesn't amount to much anymore

The journey you didn't make because you were afraid of a closed door

A bit was lost and a lot was gained

Time may have passed but you may have failed.

You are your priority- not mine!

Two sides to a coin. The illusion of weighing the pros and cons. The classical dilemma between rationale and instinct.

The fear of losing something you don’t own. The dread that comes with the possibility of owning something you don’t even want.

Welcome to my mind. Let me take you on a tour through the world I’ve built for myself in the world that you call yours.

Before you begin your journey, there are rules you must abide by.

1)      You may judge.

2)      You may criticize.

3)      You may make fun.

4)      You may be biased.

5)      You may relate.

6)      You may stop reading at any instant of time. This moment qualifies.

7)      You must not question.

8)      You must not debate.

9)      You must not interrupt.

10)   You must not try to gain a residency status in my world.

Let me begin by answering a question that people love to ask- What are the priorities in your life?

Family, career. I don’t have a third priority. Yes, I probably do not have a life according to the rules of your world but this is my world we’re talking about. I believe in the concept of friends just as much as I believe in the concept of the tooth fairy. The purest non-familial love is touch and go. Money is a necessary evil but not worthy of being a priority.

First up, my family.

Satisfaction level: 10 out of 10. They are so perfect I don’t have to think. Touchwood.

I have been writing a lot about marriage lately and so I must clear the doubts that have been consequentially raised.

I love the concept of marriage. I think it’s beautiful that you find someone you want to spend the rest of your life with and then you both make a world together, where there are no secrets and you are never alone and you don’t have a moment to spare for yourself and you have a new set of relatives overnight and you can’t go out for a drive alone because you feel like getting away from everyone and you see that the man you married has put on weight and you are stuck with him and he farts and belches and makes a mess of your bathroom and he wants to have sex every night and suddenly there is someone telling you what color does not suit you and that you would look better with your hair longer and you have to cook for him and you have to socialize with people you detest and suddenly someone is stalking you and he is what they call a husband. EEEEYAAARRRGGGHH!!!

Who am I kidding? I began writing about how nice it would be and I can’t even lie about how horrendous it sounds. As I said, welcome to my mind. This is what I think about getting married.

Current satisfaction level: 9 out of 10. Currently content with the single status.

Next up, my so-called career.

So, yeah. Qualifications: 3 years of electrical engineering, 4 years of computer science engineering, 2 years of MBA with Marketing and Sales as a specialization and an additional year of MBA with Marketing & IT specialization, currently pursuing a long distance course of script writing from London School of Journalism.

Currently working as an Associate Editor of an online tech magazine. Previously dabbled in advertising and digital media.

Perpetually torn between creativity and logic.

Perpetually trying to come up with hare-brained entrepreneurial schemes that bite the dust when I try to work out the business models for each.

Satisfaction level: 4 out of 10. Don’t know what I want or where I belong.               

There aren’t any more priorities. There are wants, but there are no needs.

The mind does not adhere to the norms of convention and the heart does not want to talk about it.

There is this constant nagging sense of insecurity and uncertainty that the mind creates whenever it gets a moment to itself. And that makes me wonder.

·         Do I love what I do?

·         Do I know what I want?

People tell me that I am wise and not a stupid fool. Why doesn’t it feel that way?

Why do people expect me to talk to them when talking irritates me? I don’t mind communication, but I hate phones. You can’t just pick up your phone and dial my number and expect me to be free to talk to you or to reply to your texts. Why is that so difficult to understand?

If I’m sitting in a café and quietly reading a book and drinking my coffee, why do people feel the compulsion to make small talk? Yes, I know the author of the book is good. No, I haven’t read his other books. No, I don’t want to tell you where I work. No, I’m not carrying my business card. And no, I do NOT want to network with a complete stranger. And I know how to put a bloody charger into the wall socket so you do NOT have to assist me. I can pick up the tissue that fell from my table so do NOT help me.

I always thought I was one of the optimists and if there is one thing I can’t stand, it’s cynicism based on whim. But living alone has made me fiercely possessive about my space. Not just at a café but also at work, at home and even on the road.

So you can imagine what happens when the mind starts thinking too much about one person in particular. It obsesses one moment and then it distances itself in the next moment.

So, now that you know about my priorities and know that you are not one of them, feel free to ignore me. You’ll be doing me a favor.

#ThingsToDo

Since I cannot avoid the “Big 3-0,” I’ve decided to make it the most eventful year of my life. So dear 2012, get ready because my bucket list is ready. It is shallow and selfish, just like me. I don’t yet know how (or maybe I just don’t want to reveal it yet), but this is what I’m going to accomplish in the year 2012. Not resolutions, just reminders:

1. Move into a new house in Delhi. One that’s bigger, better and feels at least a bit like home. No more living like a hippie.
2. Begin eating 3 square meals a day. And more importantly, start cooking them.
3. Get a bloody increase in salary. No more overqualified underpaid business.
4. Finish the draft of my first book. Since it’s been begun and trashed countless number of times, I at least know what not to do.
5. Make up my mind whether I want to get married or not. If not, convince the family. If yes, get engaged.
6. Make a trip to Varkala and Kochi. Kerala is not that far away and not so expensive.
7. Learn how to swim, Goddamnit. Considering how much I love water, it’s a shame that I don’t know how to swim.
8. Begin that long distance course from LSJ I’ve been eyeing for so long now.
9. Invest. Find the will to save enough for a modest investment.
10. Start an exercise routine and stick to it for more than just a week.
11. Wake up every morning no later than 7 a.m. Okay, 8 a.m. That’s it.
12. Find out what the fuck it is that I want to do for the rest of my life. Professionally, that is. And then stick to that. Changing job profiles every six months is suicidal.

Okay, that’s all I can think of right now.  Also, I just remembered I have pending work. More important. I’ll keep updating this list. Suggestions, as always, are always welcome. 

Why my life will never become a bestseller

Life has been unusually eventful these past few months. I switched jobs, cities and issues. Lost touch with childhood friends, started avoiding social gatherings, witnessed my kittens being murdered by a mean alley cat, lost interest in movies and my own dreams somewhere along the way. Met a couple of men who wanted to marry me and considered the option in all seriousness. My mind tried to convince me that I’m finally growing up.

It’s been several months since I’ve updated my blog. There are multiple reasons for that. The first is the sheer paucity of time. The second reason is the fact that I now write for a living.

Yes, my dream finally did come true. It all came together somehow. I work as the Associate Editor of an online tech magazine now. The work is good. I get paid for finding fault with people’s grammar and sentence construct now. I get to think. I get to write and learn. It’s wonderful but it does have its moments of doubt.

I met a man who I can imagine spending the rest of my life with. But that has its moments of doubt too. And it’s way too early to say.

The most important thing that happened, though, was that I stopped believing in fairy tales. And I made peace with the fact that there is no such thing as perfect happiness. It’s a flawed concept. Damn I sound grown up!

I think the most important question in life right now is whether I want to get married at all or not. I’m still in two minds about it all. Marriage scares me. Talks of commitment make me want to break out in a cold sweat.

I spend 5 days of my week alone in Delhi and 2 days in Chandigarh with the family. I sometimes feel so torn between the two that feelings of homelessness grip me in their cold embrace.

Detachment from people, in general, has become a way of life. They think I’m too “casual”. They are not wrong. I just don’t see why I should get worked up over every little thing that people say or do. And if I do, I don’t see why I should show it. People should deal with the fact that I’m not an overly-expressive, easily perturbed 20 year old girl anymore.

I just happen to have different priorities. And my first priority is to be happy with myself.

I will not get married if I don't fall hopelessly in love. I just doubt my ability to give or receive love now.

Singledom is not a choice I'm making. It's a calculated decision. I will not ruin my life and somebody else's by getting into something that's irrevocable. 

My fairy tale needs to be rewritten. Since I'm writing my own story here, I will take the liberty to never ever let it become a bestseller. Because bestsellers are what the masses relate to. And I can't even relate to my own life here.

Here is why the story of my life will never become a bestselling work of non-fiction:

1. As the main protagonist, I suck!
2. The world is full of princes who turn into frogs the moment you kiss them. It's not a rare occurrence anymore. (I read the fairy tale backwards, the way it was supposed to be.)
3. I'm way too average to be special.
4. I have a terrible memory so I'm quite sure that I'm going to miss out on key events.
5. Bestsellers have a lot of drama, sex and bitchy women in them. My life's drama is restricted to arguments with the landlord, I do not talk about sex because I am not Osho and have no intentions to be and the bitchiest woman in my life is, well, me.
6. Every story has to have an ending and by the time my book gets published, the ending will have changed twice over.
7. I'm not delusional about my life being "different" or "worth writing about."
8. Twitter and Facebook know my life too well. The cat's already out of the bag...and sprawled over the internet.
9. I'm just 29 years old. I haven't lived enough or seen enough to write about it. And I don't want to be just another Chetan Bhagat. He gets his ass kicked way too much and I don't aspire to be that.
10. I just don't have the time, man!

ISTP - "Engineer". Values freedom of action and following interests and impulses. Independent, concise in speech, master of tools. 5.4% of total population.

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Personality Test by SimilarMinds.com

WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU, ADONIS?

I know I know! I promised you I’d keep you updated with my search for my “elusive Prince Charming” and make sure the gossipy fat aunty that lies inside each of you (don’t deny her existence, she has ways of getting back you can’t dream of!) is satiated with enough raunchy details. I know I’ve been neglecting what I was born to do- provide crass literary entertainment at my expense, but really guys, believe it or not, I have a life too, okay? Well, okay, not as happening as yours, but still.

Life has a way of making you feel worried about certain things that you otherwise wouldn’t give a fuck about. Really.

Take for instance, this whole marriage scene. I wasn’t worried about when I would get married. And who I would eventually get married to. And what that would be like. I had just assumed that I would have a “..and she lived happily forever after”. It seemed a natural enough assumption for me. I mean, how else could life possibly treat me? I’m too nice to deserve any less, right?

But just when I was settling into this oh-so-comfortable notion, a new side of the story, hitherto ignored, decides to present itself in neon color.

Let me begin from the start. I can count 5 people, other than family, who have been extremely close to my heart. They’ve been a part of my childhood and/or teenage life and have stuck on because they managed to wriggle their sneaky way in to my shell. I often refer to them as my closest friends.

Now, four out of five of these great friends decide to tell me in January that they are getting married. Number One tied the knot in January. Number Two ties the knot in another 5 days. Number Three does it next month. And Number Four does it the month after that. I wouldn’t at all be surprised if Number Five comes knocking at my door with his wedding card in tow any day now.

And if you haven’t guessed by now, this new development has me freaked out oh-so-completely (especially with Mom reminding me every weekend- ALL your friends are getting married)!

I mean, what about me? I haven’t even been looking! Hell, I don’t even know where to begin looking! I mean it’s not something that I can just decide that I want and go out tomorrow, do a bit of comparative shopping and come back with the best bargain, right? Though I really think if someone would start manufacturing Perfect Men I’d go out and splurge just to even the score.

But for now, I’m stuck in a position that I can’t make much sense out of. Okay, so do I want to get married? Well, yeah, but what’s the rush?

I’m not men-o-phobic and I’m not a feminist. But what’s the hurry? Am I ready? Is my life ready? I want a fairy-tale beginning to my story. Why should I settle for anything less? The idea of staying alone, working all day and coming back to an empty house does not repel me. Mom says it’s only till the time I’m young that I’ll enjoy this state. But it doesn’t sound bad to me. I could travel the world alone. Have a home entertainment system and a stock of 500 DVDs to amuse me when I’m down. Work my ass off and not have to worry about what I have to cook for the family when I get home. I could keep 3 cats and 1 dog as my companions. Hire a cook, a maid and a driver and continue living the life of a princess.

It sounds great, doesn’t it?

Impractical, illogical, but great. I can’t force myself to go out there and fall in love with someone who is ‘marriage-material’, as the girls say. I doubt if I fit into that category. Now, don’t get me wrong. I have enormous respect for the concept of marriage and family. But I will not rush into something because of a reason like the biological clock. I don’t see myself as a baby-popping machine and it just seems like a ridiculous reason to get into a relationship.

But I also have no qualms in admitting that a Constant would do my life some good. God knows I fumble way too much than your average Jane.

I tell anyone that I’m 29 and the first question they ask me is – No marriage plans yet?

And then they try to feign surprise, amusement and distrust by contorting their faces when I say NO.

I’ve never given in to peer pressure. Alcohol, dope, kinky sex, metal, weed…they all passed me by. But the times-they-are-a-changing. I feel the pressure now and it’s not comfortable.

 I would just like to meet the man I would get married to. And I have nothing romantic to say to him. He deserves one tight slap for putting me through this nonsense. And then, maybe, I'll decide if he's marriage-material or not.
Because I deserve nothing but the bestest of the best. And I am not settling for anything halfway. The jigsaw puzzle of life will not be incomplete if it has a missing piece. It'll just not be perfect.

"Happy" Women's Day?

I’m not a feminist. I feel no sympathy for women who cry when they are insulted by office colleagues, lovers or friends (if that’s what you can call them). I’m not an evangelist for the women’s liberation movement because I don’t believe you can earn respect by yelling till you’re blue in the face (There is a reason why Dolly Bindra is not the perfect candidate for the job). I don’t like women who pine over men who cheated on them and are willing to give them another chance (No, Ekta Kapoor, my Ba will not live to be 500 years old and honestly? Tulsi was an opportunist).

In a lot of ways, I don’t like women.

But then again, I don’t like men that much too.

I hate men who disrespect women and take them for granted. I hate men who think that a woman wearing short clothes is provoking men to misbehave with her. I hate men who stereotype women just because they belong to a particular region (thank you, MTV Roadies, men now think I’m a desperate, loud wannabe just because I belong to Chandigarh) or because they work in a certain industry (so I’m supposed to be all exciting and glamorous because I’m in advertising? Dude. Seriously).

That really doesn’t leave a lot many people for me to like but I usually do, till the second conversation.

Before I forget, Happy Women’s Day.

I hope you found a reason to be happy today because I sure as hell did not.

A DU student was shot in broad daylight in Delhi. Yes, that’s the city I live in.

No, she wasn’t mugged or robbed. She was “just” shot which led the police to the “obvious” conclusion that the culprit was known to the girl and it was probably a case of a “relationship gone wrong.”

http://ibnlive.in.com/news/du-student-shot-dead-outside-college/145276-3.html

Women in this city can’t even have themselves killed without the media and the journalists assassinating their character from thereon.

Be it the Arushi Talwar case, the Jessica Lall case or the road rage case. The victims were all women -women who were conveniently ripped off their dignity after they couldn’t voice their opinions anymore. Because they were dead.

Did Arushi Talwar have an illicit relationship with her servant or her father? Wasn’t Jessica Lall a model who wore provocative clothes and played the waitress at parties where alcohol and drugs were in rampant use? Why was the journo who was killed in the road rage accident driving her car that late at night all alone and did anyone kill her out of spite because of a “relationship gone wrong”?

Does it matter?

I know you need to find the motive for a crime. I know you must walk through a fictitious chain of events to understand what happened. But why is it that the first thought in your head always maligns the woman in question? And why is it that you need to announce your dumbfuck 'obvious' conclusions to everyone on National TV or the internet? Because it is more important that if your conclusion is right, you can say 'I told you so!'??

I’m a 29 year old single woman living in Delhi alone. I’m still scared of strangers. I’m still scared of the dark. I’m still scared of driving back alone late at night unescorted. I can’t just pick up my car keys to go on a long drive alone at night. Someone will jump me before I get to my car. I’m more afraid of the cops than I am of the random stranger walking on the road, even though I’ve never gone against the law (not counting the occasional speed limit I ignore).

If I were to die tomorrow, it would be hard on my family in more ways than one.

I dress fashionably, so I would have probably provoked some man to stab me to death.

The first thing they’ll probably check in the post-mortem report is whether I’ve been raped or not. And if I’m not, they might want to know whether I’m pregnant or not. If not, they’ll romantically link me to every man I’ve communicated with in my life. Of course, blood relations are totally included.

You know why I hate men AND women? Because there really is not much of a discrepancy here. You all would believe what the media leads you to believe.

But I’m not dying that easy, baby.

This would probably be the first time I use Hindi in my blog, but I’d rather make things easier for all those news channels that will sensationalize my death .

Just remember, my last words, whenever I die will be: Bhains ki Aankh!