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Wednesday, December 26, 2012

Dearest Daddy

This is the first time I am writing  a birthday post, and the very first one is for the only man in my Life, To my dearest Dad.

Dear Dad,


So Its an half century this  time. You have turned fifty, or two more days to go.Come 27 th and you are 50. For I cant believe you are Fifty , For me you have always been the most young and handsome man on Earth. I have told you a number of times, Am very jealous of Amma. She is the luckiest woman on the Earth .


Fifty years was no cakewalk for you, For you have always inspired me with your ' keep it going' attitude in Life , in spite of the number of hurdles you have faced.


After losing your dad, when you were five, you almost took the responsibility of the entire family. 'Five', imagine, I couldn't even spell my name correctly by then, and you would manage an entire family's responsibility .


Be it completing your studies and alongside earning a living for a family , You have never complained about life.


You have been the best son . Till last moment, you took utmost care of your mother, And I still remember, first ever time in my life, I felt weak, in your presence, At that moment you burst out crying over Grandma's face, when she passed away. Till then I could control my tears, but then I realized  the most strong and determined man I have ever seen is still a crying Kid when his mother departs.


You have been the best husband ,As I said I always Envy Amma. Be it waking up all night when shes ill, or Arranging a midnight hour birthday party for her, I have seen the worry in your eyes every time she gets ill, and the love that clearly comes out for her, Every time she gets stressed up, All that she need is your presence  , and Alas , I believe you are the best couple on Earth


You are the best Father on Earth and in that case I am the luckiest. Everyday Its your wake up call that starts my day and every night  your the last to wish me good night. Every time I stay awake late night during exams , You make me that special black coffee, Lots of special things between us, the special birthday kiss, the special chit chats, the special scooty ride, the special cooking days. You make our home a special place to live in.


You have never let me feel low, every time amma scolds me, you give me that special smile and the "ITs ok" from you is all that I need to get rid of the tears.She always blames you for  the extra pampering or in amma's words, your love that spoils me, And I do proudly say I am my daddy's girl.


You have been the perfect Daddy, Just like you always take care of our needs, you are the first one to know If I fall ill, n the way you never tell anyone if you are not keeping well, When you badly search for the tablets and mess everything up, we ultimately end up guessing dad's got some health issues.


You have never let us know any difficulty in life, You are not the one among those Daddys who has this I am so serious attitude and always stay hooked up to News channels, For You are the one who is like " give me a high five, Its Our favorite movie today" type of Dad.


You have always been very transparent with me, for every time I am into some tension, Daddy , you are  the first person I would lookout for help. I remember when I was eve teased for the first time in life and later you found out those guys and made them apologize to me .


Lots of memories, Lots of love attached with you. Fifty years ,dad, You are best gift of my life, As you once said on my birthday. I know you do read my blogs even though you  don't let me know that. And I am hundred percent sure, you have that awsum smile on your face now on this surprise post.


Happy Birthday . I love you .






Monday, December 24, 2012

‘Incomplete’’ – my entry to the GetPublished contest’’

A new friend of the narrator at college, falls ill that leads to her first visit at her friends place.For this s neither the narrators' story, nor her friend's. Before you assume this visit to be the beginning of the story, It isn't. Perhaps the story had almost ended ,by then.The story that started from a painting that narrator admired at their porch.
 A silent seashore, with calm waves beneath the yellow  dusk sky .It wasn't beautiful  neither did it have the setting sun, nor the beauty of the sea. Still there was something very captivating in the yellow shade of the canvas. A sense of incompleteness in it.  True,
 After few more days of college and the strong bond developed with her new friend, she discovers the entire story that she could relate with the incompleteness in the painting.

What Makes This Story ‘Real’ : 

The 'real ' factor of the story is in its lead character. Chandra, a clerk in the Western railway accounts department in  Mumbai, who lives a very passive life. Sundays are almost a curse to her, for she is  neither interested in spending an evening with her family, nor visiting her old friends, leave alone social networking or Watching movies. It was only house to office, back office to house sort of bored life.For a third person, It would be perhaps the boredom and simplicity in her life , but for her near and dear ones, it had been three years living this nightmare. A story that narrates Chandra's  beautiful past, deserted present and perhaps the awaited future.

Extract: 

Some one rightly said, Time heals everything. However in the long run , Some day or the other you are bound to bump into some material or remarkable memory that could bring back the pain .

Though the frame was partly rusted, the brown rust shades  couldn't disfigure the photograph in it.
 "Nostalgic" , he said. "If only you stood besides me that day".

She noticed the incompleteness in his eyes that came through the words he spoke. She stared into the his eyes, dark and wet,  

 "I love you", she smiled and Placed the photograph back into the carton.


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  Endnote: This is my entry for the HarperCollins–IndiBlogger Get Published contest, which is run with inputs from Yashodhara Lal and HarperCollins India.


Love to see the the entire story in Print?

Then you gotta vote here :)  Please !

CLick on the heart on this page : click here .

Sunday, December 23, 2012

Shave or crave Extremes









Here , I am back after the "Aww so awsum " spa event organised by Bloggada at SU KO THAI spa.


Thank you so much Blogadda , for the wonderful experience.
The entire session was amazing, made my day.

 

"Little stubble is always cute". Did you say that, O you are yet to experience the terror then. Stubble isnt cute, it is unfair. Nothing like clean shave, It not just makes you look younger, but cleaner too.
Out of laziness, most of  them, call it 'COOL'. Coolness is out of question, if hair could make you cool no one would have took the pain of threading and waxing.

If stubble is still cute, your girl will definitely go for this




Stubble is never cute, and girls don't love men with stubble for sure, In case my  guys stern on his stubble, I bet I would try extremes  to get rid of that.

Extreme 1: Post this picture nxst to the mirror




Extreme 2 :  Stop the monthly pain treatments, Yes the threading and waxing stuff, If you can deal with stubble , deal with this too

Extreme 3. Mumble until you get rid of that stubble. Guys can deal with everything, But not the frequent mumbling tortures by women, be it his girlfriend or his mother.

Extreme 4:  The stubble fever fear
Post these videos to his Wall, Irritate him as much as his stubble irritates

If you cant do this with the stubble, better get rid of that


2. You dont have the inspiration?
here it is :




Extreme 4: I ll slip this into his drawer, a free kit, this might tempt him to shave.


Extreme 5: The last option, leave him high and dry, or else leave him forever
                                                                              for a stubble is always unbearable




She glanced through the wardrobe again
This time with much stress and strain
Red, black or blue one
Its the purple touch, done

At the mirror, she chose the color
be it the eye shades, or the lip  glow'er'
Checked the blush and the hairstyle,
alas., shes done , another smile

The  tedious task was yet to begin
threading , waxing and the pain within
If it wasn't for the evening with him
She would hardly tried anything

There she was, so pretty and lubly
All ready to impress her hubby
At the window pane,  in the candle glow
Was waiting for him, some how

He passed through her, threw away his briefcase
Out of tiredness, did not look at her face
In a moment he was back in a hurry,
" we will return back early"

She was half  lost, fully deprived
sad and wounded, neither could she hide
Rushed to bathroom, for quick sneak peek
''Oh , his stubble, make him lookalike geek"

A shave is hardly a few minutes run
she mumbled trying fixing her bun
She wished she actually make him crave
At least he could do the shave

This post is a part of the 'Shave or Crave' movement in association with BlogAdda.com

Friday, December 21, 2012

THE BODY OF THE RAPED.


I am her body, the body of the raped.

I AM HER BODY , THE BODY OF THE RAPED.

I am her body, the body of the goddess they worship

I am her body , the body of the mother who breastfed them

I am her body , the body of the daughter in their homes

I am her body , the body of the prostitute who would have satisfied their lust, whom they could have approached .

I am her body, that was left naked on the road after their lust engulfed me, and no one bothered to look upon.

I am her body, the body of every lady in the country who silently weep for me.
I am her body , body of many a female fetus that ended up in  garbage piles.

I am the body , the body of the 23 year old medical intern , who surprised doctors with the  hope she portrayed to live through.

I am her body , the body of the heroin or precisely the 'item' that entertains them.

I am her body, body of  the girl who have been eve teased, who have been touched "wrong"  even in the busiest crowd.

I am her body, body of the four year old who was raped by her father.

I am the body, the body of the 60 year old raped by her son.

I am her body, the body of the 16 year old, raped by her teacher.

I am her body , The body that bore every pain, that took in everything , the pain , his lust , her cries, her helplessness and even the 'ROD' ,

I am her body with a damaged rib cage, and destroyed abdomen.

I am her body , with deformed 'her ' parts

I am her body that sipped to coma six times within four days, and still struggling to survive

I am her body , probably wont be denied of justice


 Littered and leftover of a terrible attempt of some human monsters showcasing their manly desires .

Just like the dirty street dogs fight over a loaf of bread, just like the scary vultures  hover over the dead ,  unlike them, at least they don't feed or pounce over the living,  at least they wait for the life in the body to  cease.

The pain is indeed terrific, I don't have the voice to scream or the minimal strength so I could at least cry. I had cried hard then, but then no one listened ,  flesh requires no mercy when fed upon,  since It was no murder, It was no slaughter, It was RAPE.

 I don't want them hung, I don't want them  jailed, I want them to live through the same pain .

PS: The best the government can do is, chop of their manly weapon  and GIFT them the most painful death.



She was a student. She was just 23.

Six men raped her one by one. And left her to die on the road. Naked. Wounded. Exposed. Devastated. What’s more no one even turned to look at her.

She has gone into coma five times since 16th December.
She is unconscious, critical and hasn’t been able to stop crying.

But don’t worry, she wasn’t your SISTER. She wasn’t your DAUGHTER.

BUT SHE COULD BE.

The brutality has to stop right here.
These people deserve a capital punishment for their heinous, pervert act.

I VOTE FOR A CAPITAL PUNISHMENT!!!


sign the petition here:


http://www.causes.com/causes/807060-delhi-bus-gangrape-demand-death-penalty/



Saturday, December 15, 2012

Mumbai Calling

Recently I attended a seminar organized by Mumbai  Police "ALERT MUMBAIKAR", regarding the facts and precautions a mumbaikar must be aware of. They claimed Mumbai to be the most targeted city against terror threats.

The start was very good,  A very unnoticed fact about Mumbai, in its name, the meaning of 'MUMBAI'

MUM-- BA--AAI

Split the word,  Its 'Mother ' in English, Gujarati and Marathi respectively.
According to statistics, most of the Attacks could have been avoided only if the public were alert. All that one needs to is to keep their EYES and EARS wide open.
Terror attacks have never repeated any place other than in our country .
None to be blamed for ,  out of 100 crore population, if a terrorist seeps n, or suspicious activities occur, its surprising that no one ever noticed. All that needs to is dial 100 , but the negligence and ignorance of one such citizen leads to a disaster that could be avoided

* conditions apply. This actually made me think. Is it the I don't want to get into the police stuff attitude?  And even if its the case, isn't the law and police responsible for that attitude developed in the citizen, only if they were citizen friendly, only if the justice is not time lagged and some examples of witness is the victim  cases, responsible for the ignorance among the citizen?

However the alertness initiative by the police is laudable. As far as the information they provided in the seminar , its a must for every MUMBAIKAR,.

Here are some excerpts

# Be alert.
# Don't touch any suspicious object. More of it don't open , or submerge it in water (the Bollywood bomb diffusing methods don't work in real world) in case it is suspected to be a Bomb.

# Don't hover any metallic object around it, nor use RADIOS in the vicinity.

**The frequency of radios can cause the bomb to explode, a very surprising fact that none of us could have imagined.

# Please evacuate people from the area, and don't move the object.

# Don't direct a flash  light over it, especially halogen bulbs etc at a public event can result in untimely explosion of the bomb.

#Place sand bag around it , not OVER IT. 
This will reduce the effect of the splinters used in the bomb.

Please don't roam around the object so that the media captures you and you are aired on the TV.Life is very precious, and not the appearance on Idiot box

INTERNET can be harmful, so people need to be made aware of safe Internet usage

*HACKING is not fun. Ultimately , it can end you up as a suspect in a terror attack case.

*Open the email attachment only if the source is known and authorized.
*Don't forward credit card details to unknown sources. NO one wants to gift you a free innova or 3 bedroom flat.Such emails that ask for your personal details are fake. Unless and until , the website is secure, don't apply transactions.

* Don't auto connect on WIFI, all that's free, is not necessarily safe.
* Watching Porn is not cool ( I don't know why they included this topic  in the seminar, and how one could relate to terrorism here. )


* Care for the society, dial 100 whenever necessary

And its better to waste one rupee for a call, rather than wasting 50 crores on a terrorist.

Monday, December 10, 2012

HER 2

This is a sequel to the post HER,  Its good to know the story well before reading the climax. And this ones incomplete without that either.


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She did not resemble a bride, in fact inside the veil, there were those tearful eyes that longed for an escape.
She was tired , tired of celebrations, of the lights and sound, tired of change.

Neither could she name the feelings or the thoughts that passed across her mind. Fear, would be rather a wrong quote, for all her loved ones were with her. Neither was she confused. Confusion is when  one finds difficult to make choices and here the choice was already done,
Perhaps she had no choice.

Fate..? If it was to blame fate for everything, then all of us would be just puppets driven by fate enacting the story of life.

Yesterday all that mattered to her were  homework , and the midterms, but today its an entire burden of responsibilities, for she was no more a school girl, but the mistress of

err, she hardly knew whom she was married to.


All that she knew  Tasneem didi , was married to the same person and that she could no more continue education . .

So, You had  to miss school today?,

His voice was sharp, unlike her father, and this time she dared to look across the veil, towards the one who spoke,  an affectionate voice

Yes, but they said I cannot go to school anymore.

No, you can, Tasneem told you love reading. And you can continue it.


This time , she was confused, of whom to be thanked. The messiah in him, or Tasneem who evoked it. For her dreams could be continued even after the nightmare.

image courtesy : google, Of course!