merry Christmas everyone

Though Christmas was never really a thing for me... All holidays (specially) here seem to have become just another day. There is no special love in the air or no special gift for an occasion,  no special dress for the day...  Its just another day. The mundaneness of this situation is what makes me sad. Not the fact that no one celebrates anything anymore (with me?) but the fact that it's just not fun anymore. Birthdays, Christmas's, Holis, Diwalis, are now an excuse to either just drink or sleep in. You have to really beg people to gather together to celebrate things,  even your own birthday. No one has that kind of time to waste and I don't have that kind of emotions and energy to waste.

Even then, maybe it's my fault that I don't really get along with a lot of people in the new place I am settled in. However, the fact still remains no one really cares in the true sense. Getting together and celebrating with gifts and no alcohol irks people now. Maybe that's the ways of the grown up world.  And I am just not ready to grow up yet. 

Virgin for life

The boy squirmed a bit, looked around and then blurted out the four word sentence every man in India may have asked before getting married. “Are you a virgin ? “

I have to make it clear; it’s not every girl’s dream to make rotis for a balding man by the time she is thirty. But, to tell you the truth – this is the scenario in the middle class families in India.

She is married off as soon as she takes a turn to her mid-twenties. She takes on the challenge of staying with whoever her parents choose for her, by fooling herself into thinking that she would be the exception to the rule – you are a housewife, you shall be treated as nothing more.

She is not worth if she has brains, the first thing her parents will say when the ‘dekhne wale’ will come over – ‘B.A Pass hai, khana banana aata hai aur ghar ke baaki kaam me bhi haat bata leti hai’. In a nutshell for the ones who don’t know hindi – she is as good as the maid who comes to our house, just that she has been sent to college, since that is the pre- requisite now-a-days.

There is a value for education. Like the auspicious time when a man is speaking in English, the woman can then understand his requirements; she can keep track of the work and money at home. Speaking of work, women working rights are uplifted now. Till the time she doesn’t earn more than the husband he is fine with her working outside. Till the time she returns to the house just in time to take care of him, she is allowed to work, till the time she stays in the limits of her being a ‘Sabhya Nari’ whilst providing for the children, she is allowed to work, otherwise, the best job is ‘being a mother’.

I understand that being a housewife is a huge job in itself, however the fact that it has been such an exploited position till date, I squirm everytime someone says ‘I want my wife to be a housewife.’ The only image I get in my head when I hear those ominous words together, is a woman sitting at home, watching television all day, losing her neurons bit by bit. Cooking, mastering her skills in an action that goes unnoticed, until there is no salt in the curry. Cleaning, which lasts till the kids come home. Keeping track of the expenditure, out of the ‘pocket money’ that the husband provides. There is no fault in being a housewife, my mother was one, her mother was one, and her mother was one. However, the fact that the mothers were never treated as ‘mothers’ claws at the walls of my hear t till it bleeds for repose.

The man squirms again and the next question is purged out, “ So, how many boyfriends have you had before?

Yet again I have to make it clear, not every girl has the dream of putting together her balding knight’s corroded armour. Not every girl has the dream of staying up in a tower for twenty years, till Shrek comes in and breaks the door. Not every girl has the dream of locking herself up in a chastity belt, clawing at it and begging her husband to free her from the shackles.

The amount of worth a man gives to dating, love, experience in bed, is the same for a woman in the 21^st Century. Though I do believe that there are women who prefer to remain single till they are married and I respect them, I resent the fact the rest of us are judged by the number lovers from our past. Somehow, the breaking of a hymen hurts the man more than it does the woman. May it be from a man, an explicit toy or just the seat of a cycle, the cynical would always picture his wife with mounds of men before he came to her rescue and saved her from the shame she had burdened herself with.

This rambling may seem too anti-men and I will say this, not every man thinks the way I describe them above, there are men out there who are understanding to the fact that women are equal individuals, but the fact that there are many who still carry around the dusty intelligence thrown down by our ancestors makes me want to shake those brains out and save them for Frankenstein’s next experiment.

The hoards of questions that are piled on after that are in line with whatever topics I have been stumbling on. 

The latest crush

There is enough to be talked about. So what shall I start with. Let's do latest crush.

So, there I was standing alone at a 'friend's' party. I put him in quotes because i was invited just to look nice. I was the only +1. I was invited because my friends were invited. Hence, i was standing alone on the roof. I had my plastic cup in one hand and the other trying to keep me steady after all that drinking.

I was wearing a cute floral print dress and an in-your-face necklace. My hair (now much, much longer) flowing with the wind. It was hot, humid and the cute dress was failing bit by bit, to make me look sexy, after each drink.

Since i was the only +1, I was standing and watching everyone else get into their own groups and talk, make out ... and whatever else one can do at a party. There was a guy standing across the roof. Tall, muscular and so cute. He was looking towards me. For privacy's sake let's call him- Smokin. He was the only one there with a beer can in his hand. The rest of us mortals sloshed with drops of alcohol in a plastic cup.

He came up to me and said," nice party, no? "

I nodded, not because i was being coy, but because it was just too difficult to speak at that moment.

He stood next to me.

"Nice tattoo, that's the only one?"

I looked at him. This was not right, i have never attracted hunks before in my life . Maybe he was bored.
"I am Smokin, what's your name?"
"I am Big fat Draamebaaz, people call me big fat"
He smiled , "Nice name." His teeth shining in the dark like little light bulbs.

My high had left me by now. I had to concentrate on what he was saying.

He touched my tattoo, i felt electricity pass through me. This has happened before. My Ex had that effect on me. He was another hunk, but it had taken him a year to notice me.

"tell me what does this one mean ?"

I had to impress him. I started ranting about some made up incident about some accident that had changed my life for good. He smiled, nodded, understanding everything, i am sure.

We got into a discussion about inner beauty and how it was essential. This was when my friends got out of their zones and noticed, I was actually having a good time. They started to hoot in their drunken stupor. For some reason he started speaking softly or maybe the hooting was too loud. I could not hear a single word.

He was rambling on about everyone being awesome, inner beauty and what not. I just smiled gave an occasional hmm, ahan.

Then came the questions.

"Where are you from?"

"Delhi"

"No, i meant where are you really from?"

"Urm, my family is  from the east."

"So is mine!"

"I meant Bengal"

"Even Bengal has chinks?"

I was astounded. This handsome, intelligent guy had blurted this line out. I didn't want to correct him.

"So, we are closer than i thought" He said excitedly.

I nodded meekly.

Well anyway, the conversation went onto another tangent about mountains and the rivers after that. It was all a blur. Mostly because of all the alcohol he was passing me.

Towards the time everyone started to leave, we did have a little make out session of our own.

But, this time the spark was gone. I could feel every kiss, lick, touch and grab that went down in those ten minutes before i escaped to the road.

I had opened my eyes mid way to actually find a frantic boy, literally licking my face. He wasn't Smokin anymore, just another guy who hadn't had any for some time.

He asked for my number, he asked me to stay back at his place. I denied him all.

It was then i realised, I wasn't attracting wierdos. We all were wierdos. Smokin was a wierdo, my Ex was a big wierdo, the guys before him and in between were all wierdos. And for choosing them all out of the crowd i was a wierdo .

He is still a crush. I can look at Smokin for hours at end. The older, taller, muscular guy. Who doesn't want a piece of that action? And yet here i am sitting single still.

Quite happy with myself, this time. 

May I help you ?

Well this has to be a grown up problem and I am not ready to grow up yet so I will try everything in my power to delay processing this as much as possible. But the fact is that it is right in my face as of now and my hands are itching to write about, MEN.

There i said it. Not the men I fall for, the hunky ones that float around in my fantasies but the other ones, the smelly, unruly, egoistic men that are out there, next to our seats in office, behind the doors across the hall, inside those shiny cars in traffic.

Ok, so not all of them are smelly and unruly but they all are egoistic and I cannot stand it.

No, it's not because they told me that my work isn't as good as theirs or they can do things that i can't. OK. They did say that but i am bursting into flames because They. Don't. Listen.

For years I tolerated the towels on the floor, the light banter on sexist remarks and i thought to myself - Eh! It's ok. Maybe being a girl meant tolerating this much and then i came to this office. And Lo and behold! Men have become (pardon my french german and yiddish) big behimas!

'You can't do this work, your silly brain can't take the pressure. Let me do it'

'No need to come for this project, i will handle it.'

'Oh you are talking about working this software? You must be wrong, girls only know makeup and fashion.'

'No. No, this idea won't work! Let's go with what Mr.X said...' Mr.X sides my idea 'Oh ya, wow! I didn't know you had such an insight M. X!'

These are some of the lines that have been said to me over some time and they are just the tip of the iceberg! It's one thing to think you are good, but another to think you're better just because you have a bratwurst instead of a cherry.

Well all in all this is yet another rambling on the same old issues about sexism and whatnot. But, they are the same old issues because this hasn't dimmed out yet! We are still in a patriarchal society and we still give more importance to men over women.

Women deliberately choose to be airheads so that they can get help from men and what they don't realise is that actually hampers with the other women who want to do something on their own.
They are made to think otherwise. Made to think that they cannot do something when they actually can!

Well, no one actually stopped me from doing what I want (thank God for liberal parents) which hamper with me being submissive to the patronising actions that ensue behind the cubicle walls.

I haven't applied for something I am not good at, nor have I applied for something where all I have to do is carry two pom poms and cheer on the macho men to victory. I am here to work, to make mistakes and to learn. There is no way that can happen when the men have decided they are the rulers of this arena. It has to stop and maybe in a few days I will be writing another post about how I made them sit and follow my instructions for a change.

Rambler. Over and Out!

To sleep or not to sleep, that is the question!

Well, since my singlehood, i have understood a few things about myself, i am lazy.
LAZY... lazy ... lazy 

So lazy that my mattress is the only place i might have traveled to in the past one week.
That sounds disturbing but, yes, it's true.

Is it a disease? Or are there people like me out there. Am I alone on this one? That thought is again so disturbing.

It's not like i do all my daily chores on my mattress (Ew, gross) but, i would rather sleep than go downstairs and try my new ( now quite old, but since i only rode it twice, still new ) cycle. I would rather sleep than go out and get my legs waxed ( it's winters, give me some credit on that one! ) I would rather sleep than play with my dog ( sheesh! he hates me anyway ) Is it really that bad?

The mattress is comfortable, warm, and as soon as i lay on it, i go off to the best of slumbers !

It's an amazing place. It's like a fluffy kingdom for my body. It hugs me and tells me everything is going to be alright.

Ok now that i read the whole thing again, i really do think it's depressing and disturbing.

But what the hey everyone pigs out differently. There are some who binge in one night, others are just hobos. Some like to play video games and some sleep for a day straight. It's kind of a birth right for every young adult of this century.

We pig out, some to a normal healthy extent and the others to the extent of getting interventions.
This is being written on the eleventh hour but i had to let it out. I am guilty now that my friends are up and about, making use of their time while i am in a deep and meaningful relationship with my bed, my brain keeps saying i should do something better with my life and then my legs just say , Hey you know what, there is still tomorrow.

It's almost like i don't have control over any of this. Though, yet again, i will try to persuade my body tomorrow, till then, i am gonna snuggle into my warm blanket and sleep.

Goodnight :)

Valentine's Day special

The boy is on the left of the bottle, now he is on the right, now on the left and again on the right and again on the left --
"Hey! Are you winking at me?"
I sat up, embarrassed? No, just curious. When did he notice me? I had been 'winking' at him for the past fifteen minutes. Well, not winking, I was just bored so decided to explore the physics of eyesight. It was a bonus that he was soothing to the eyes as well. Valentine's day was here, the looming doom of being single yet again had finally rained on my parade today.

I wasn't really one of those people who is a loner, I mean I have friends but, being single  had nothing to do with the number of friends or the make up I put on everyday.  Being single was a socially discriminating cut off tha divided us all on Valentine's. My friends had dates and here i was, sitting alone at a take away outlet, waiting for my binge dinner, winking away at a smoldering stranger.

He must have become uncomfortable since he shifted his chair and turned his back to me. This was the reality, by now in a romantic comedy, he would have come up to me, looked deep into my eyes, held my hand and said "let's wink at others together, for the rest of our lives." Well, something to that context.

I would have had two more guys madly in love with me, waiting on the other side of town somewhere in their expensive lofts. They would realise their love for me and jump across cars' bonnets in traffic, get hit by strangers in a crowd and stop me as i am about to step into my plane to go to Paris.

Yup.

This is what happens when you wait for your take away on Valentine's and it's been delayed for the umpteenth time.

You digress into romantic comedies.

I looked out the window to distract myself from the winking, I guess there is a point in your life when you have to say to yourself, 'this has to stop, darling, you are better than this at least.' It had started raining, and the small little brain i had left from watching all those romantic comedies, had forgotten to carry an umbrella. Now, my waiting had another reason to extend and soon enough in the hopes of not diving into the ocean of insanity due to boredom I went back to my winking.

I reached home two hours later. A little earlier than i had expected. Sometimes being a pessimist pays off. The rain had turned to a drizzle, the food into coleslaw and I, as expected into a loner.