In which I resolve to never be afraid....

Dear Reader, it was Christmas two days ago, Christmas for me is a special day and I crave spending it with my loved ones. This is the time of the year when we generally switch from stress mode to holiday mode. With Christmas over and New Years just around the corner all I should think of is making plans to usher the New Year with a bang.

But do you want to know something my dear reader? This year I just don't feel like it. With the events happening around me, it just doesn't feel right. All I keep thinking about is that poor girl (Delhi Gang Rape Victim), who is teetering on the precipice between life and death.

I woke up today to the news that she was moved to Singapore for further treatment after her condition worsened. Now, I can't stop asking - What did she ever do to deserve such pain? It makes me feel ashamed to live in these times. Ashamed, because as a woman, a feminist I went about my life meekly accepting the dangers of moving about in a city like Delhi; or for the matter my tiny hometown.

This incident has jolted all of us out of the lethargic attitude that we generally seem to adopt regarding the harassment and threats to safety faced by women from all walks of life. With the daily protests by the public demanding a change in laws, one would assume that would-be offenders would think twice about assaulting women under these tense circumstances.

Alas, in the past ten days, news of three other incidents, two of which are gang rape cases, came into light. In view of this one can't help but question the mindset that allows and ignores the brutal mental, physical and emotional suppression of women.

I am not saying that incidents of Rape occur only in India, they occur all over the world. However, India has seen incidents of such brutality as to shock even the most hardened criminals.In a society where children- innocents, are aware of Rape, it is deeply disturbing.

I would like to give my own example dear reader, I first became aware of rape as an eight year old girl when the news of the abduction and rape of a sixteen year old girl in my hometown created a huge furore. She had been kept in an abandoned cluster of buildings and was raped repeatedly by the perpetrators who were brothers belonging to an affluent local family. I am happy to report that they are now serving time in jail for their crimes.

This however, is not the case with most of the incidents of Rape and sexual assault where victims don't come forward due to fear and trauma and the perpetrators go scott free. So I leave you with this thought dear reader -  Yes, I feel ashamed to have meekly accepted the limitations of  being a woman and living with safety, but should I feel ashamed about any other thing? The answer is NO and I have resolved to speak against discrimination and injustice and never be afraid. 

Rape of Innocence

Dear Reader, as I write this in the safety of a cosy room just a feet away from my mother, a 23 year old girl is battling for her life a couple of miles away.

On Monday, India woke up to the news about a 23 year old para-med student brutally Gang raped and left to die on a street along with a male friend who was also severely beaten. What made it more shocking was the heinous nature of her injuries which are chilling.

I cannot think of appropriate words to describe this incident. It upsets me to think about it not only as a woman but also as a human being. I am a believer in humanity and our capacity to do good but there are times, especially now when one can't help but question everything one believes in.

First, the news about the death of innocent children gunned down by a killer in America and now the brutal physical, mental and emotional violation of a young girl in her prime have left me shaken.

We can just grieve, discuss, and call for actions against those blots on humanity that caused such pain; yet this look at the ugly face of the humanity is jarring.

I could say a lot about the girl but I won't. Her tragedy has been milked by the money-minded albeit well meaning media as well as various activists and women's groups (some of whom are publicity hungering opportunists), while she lies in that grey area between light and shadow.

The common folk however are out on the streets with candles and banners in a show of support for her family. All we can think of is "it could have happened to one of us".

Thus,all I can now do is pray for her recovery to a higher power and that she may have the strength to live with all that happened to her.

Cotton fluff snowfalls and warm winter sun

Dear Reader, winter afternoons are the best! They are meant solely for lazing around and soaking  the gorgeous winter sun ( the best kind! ). However here I am, stuck in a lounge area waiting for something that should already have occurred. So, all I could do was sit back and reminiscence about things that give me happiness.

Winter in India is the best! I love monsoons but winter, especially in India is the best season and my favourite. There is a refreshing nip in the air and the sun isn't at it's scorching best. And every where one looks, there is a riot of colours in gardens. Absolutely beautiful!

Oh how I love winter! My dear reader, the flowers...Chrysanthemums, roses, marigolds, dahlias, lilies, pansies, they are everywhere! One can sit in the garden with a warm cup of tea/coffee/hot chocolate and enjoy a tete a tete with loved ones. Perfect, isn't it?

When I was a little girl winters would start by the sound of the "Dhunia" - these are a group of wandering weavers and quilters who go from house to house and reweave feather mattresses, pillows, duvets and quilts stuffed with cotton. The Dhunia used this bow-like instrument which made a peculiar sound like the twang of a base guitar whilst the quilts and duvets were being rewoven and the entire air was then surrounded by cotton fluff which refused to settle down.

This, to my 6 year old self was like my very own private snowfall! It was like one of those fantasy sequences from Disney movies and I absolutely loved the contrast of the warm winter sun, soft sunlight and the shiny cotton in the air.

Childhood is a time when little things and day to day events can be magical. This sense of wonderment is lost as we grow up. So dear reader, take time off from our daily lives and spend some time doing what makes us happy.

Excuse my French....Really???

Dear Reader, it's 6 am on this fine December morning and I have been up since 3..I have a bad cold and am pumped full of drugs and am unable to sleep. So in this current state of sleep deprivation I got the time to think about what I said in the last post the Phrase "Excuse my French"

I have often wondered about this phrase. If one thinks about it why do we use it after we swear; we didn't even swear in French so why..why do we do commit  this unintentional  offence?

In my defence I am completely under the weather and didn't know any better. However this phrase kept ringing in my mind incessantly and I couldn't help but feel  guilty. Now, I can be described as a self obsessed, slightly neurotic liberal. I also like to think that I am fair and logical and I hate being put into brackets and stereotypes.  

So what does my tilted view about my own writing say? Yes you're right! I unintentionally succumbed to a stereotype. I know dear reader, that I have this habit of over-analysing things but that's just the way I am. 

So let us start this day by thinking of stereotypes that are positive...I know one..."The French are the epitome of culture". Is it really true? I think to a large extent that it might be. Do you know that I once sat in an Air France lounge surround by French speakers for five hours just listening to them speak! I was in the middle of a riveting thriller and yet, all I could do was listen to them speak in this beautiful language which was so lyrical. I couldn't really understand all that they were saying (they were really quick) but, it was still a joy to listen to them. I like to talk but, I LOVE to listen (not many people know this!) For all I know, they could have been discussing the weather or describing the state of the Parisian drainage system yet, it was like they were praising one another. 

Someone called French the 'language of Love' and I totally agree. I believe that even if someone calls me a scatterbrained, simpleton idiot in French I would think that they were singing my praises. So then dear reader I end this post with this question-  am I really the only one who wonders about the irony of the phrase "Excuse my French" being used after swear words in another language?

Hello my dear reader, I am sorry but I really don't have anything special to relate......oh wait I have a double attack of the sniffles and the blues in fact I have been so blue I am positively purple which matches my extremely pink and itchy nose...Eeewwww! I hate the common cold I am all tired clingy and weepy and hate the world in general.

I am also not the best person to have around in this time..to be honest I am a huge pain in the arse  (excuse my French). I don't know about you but I always crave endless cups of soup and tea when I am sick and in general want my mum. Since I am at home right now my poor mother has practically become a slave and do you want to know something weird she is ever ready with a supply of tissues, hot drinks and cuddles even when I am absolutely gross.. MOTHERS..they really are the world's most confusing creatures are they not.

Anyway, I am now finished and am signing off for a Lord of the Rings movie marathon. Till the next post...

PS: this post contains nonsense and grammatical errors.    

Bodies and images

Due to an irritating glitch on the website, I am unable to reply to your comments the usual way so Marsha, my dear reader,in my defence I must state that I just moved back home after seven years and my mother makes the most amazing sweets :) But you are absolutely right and I agree. All we can do is enjoy life's little pleasures isn't it?

Except, Why did I feel guilty about eating sweets that have been a part of Indian cuisine for centuries and are also not that unhealthy. I have so many friends who count the calories in any food that they eat, some to an extant that they actually don't savour what they eat at all.We might do this without even realising and in some cases it is almost comical and a source of amusement to watch friends go to great lengths to avoid that one extra bite laden with calories.

However, there is a deeper issue that most of us overlook- low self esteem due to being unable to meet an image created and generated by media and current society norms about what our bodies should look like. 

It has been observed that most women, even those who meet the parameters of the "perfect" body type want to change themselves. This is in my opinion a disturbing trend. 

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/magazine-20252921  - This is a link to a BBC article about the current debate on Body images.

In an era when the dress size zero has become an obsession amongst women, we can go on and on about the objectification of the female body by male dominated society. However, as a journalist, I am also aware of the pressure on men to look good through striving to achieve a body type that seems fantastic for eg: Gerard Butler's buffed up body and 'perfect abs'in 300- This apparently had men from all walks of life pushing themselves in the gym and according to some reports this led to a hike in back injuries, hamstring injuries etc. 

The question that I want to ask here is - Is there any relation between the shape of a person's body and their level of fitness? I will take my own example in this case and would like to point out my tale of woe about my figure in a previous post 'weighty issues'. At that time all I wanted as a writer was to write a witty post about issues like weight gain etc. I am also well aware that my previous post was also about the topic of eating fattening food.

All I want to say is that it is all about our own perception of things in general. The tilted view of my own posts suggest a writer and qualified journalist who also happens to be a woman in her 20's, slightly self obsessed and prone to moan about weight. 

I am not trying to defend myself in any way. I am all of the above plus a feminist, but above all I am human and am despite all my protests, not above being influenced by my surroundings. In the society that we live in, the positive effects of rapid globalisation also brought about negative ones like certain global fashion trends and media images from around the world that cannot possible fit into a lot of social set-ups.
eg: an Haute couture dress off the Paris ramps would be totally out of place in a classroom full of 14 year olds.

I end this post but not this discussion with a question for you dear reader  which of the photo's here do you find appealing..







         













to be continued...

in which I am a good old glutton

Dear Reader, I did something bad.....in my defence, there are times when one can't help but binge on super fattening food. I am a vegetarian and am generally a healthy eater, I run regularly interspersed with bouts of yoga so you get the picture right?

All I can say is that in the past two weeks I have gained a stone!Ok, may be I am exaggerating a bit but really I feel like I have gained weight. I am not one of those females obsessed with their body. I am just a person who likes to be fit.

Now before you start to roll your eyes at your computer screen..oh yes! I know what you are thinking and let me bust that myth once and for all- vegetarians are not necessarily thin! I wish though! But seriously, we can get fat and eat fattening food too or overeat or just binge on one the incredibly yummy sweets  specially those our mothers make.


So you've guessed it, I have a sweet tooth and for the past two weeks have been indulging it.I have tried and tried to stop being greedy but ooh just when I commend my will of iron I am tempted by succulent delicacies that you get only on special occasions probably once a year.

So there you have it dear reader, I am only human and I will have to undergo the torture of extra 30 mins running, all for those 30 seconds of gluttony for what? The chance to savour delicious Indian sweets that are to die for!

To conclude, the festival/holiday season is probably the same for all of us and many indulge their taste buds only to regret later but hey, as I strongly believe- each of us has a will  of iron so the only thing to blame here is obvious isn't it-'The holiday season'.

Boredom and Bad Tv

I have been in keen observer mode for the past couple of days, in many ways it could be a a new thing that I could adopt as a way to exist.. Or to be honest, I have been a couch potato.

All in all, I have spent the past couple of days watching TV and basically lying about the house. I have to tell you this dear reader, and I mean it with the utmost respect to all those who like them...TV shows now a days are incredibly silly, in fact they are in some cases borderline ridiculous. Sitcoms, although funny basically seem to be 'Friends' clones about a group of diverse people hanging out in bars/coffee shops etc etc. Dramas are not quite cutting edge, and don't ever get me started on all the shows about vampires, werewolves, witches and other supernatural beings ( these are the ones in which 16 year olds look 26 and behave like they are 36)

So am I really wrong in being irritated about good shows? I confess that I grew up watching Friends, Fraiser, Seinfeld, ( all re-runs but timeless eh? ) I even liked arrested development and yes! Felicity (the first season)

So, we come to the main point of my rant- when one wants to alleviate boredom by watching TV, except there in nothing on that is remotely exciting. There are times when I get this sense of Déjà vu ; like whilst watching a sitcom about the dynamic single blonde woman who has a guy look after her house and kids ('Who's the boss' anyone?).


It is frustrating...really, I mean why watch recycled shows when you can go online or get the DVD of the original, some of which had great actors and were really amazing. 

So on that note I would like to sign off and then go on YouTube to watch the really funny Tim Allen in "Home Improvement".

A golden Oldie

in which I write this post to avoid an unpleasant task

Dear Reader , I am writing this post in the middle of a marathon bout of autumn cleaning...yeah I am sort of taking a break and I fancied a quick post :)

'Me' 

So what goes through your mind when you clean? I can tell you what goes through my mind....I usually think of these amazing plots for books, the themes for which depend on my mood. For instance it is usually a comic memoir, a suspense/thriller/murder mystery in case I am annoyed or in those rare days that I feel content a romance.

Although, sometimes I am just to preoccupied with my task that I can barely think...today is one of those days when all I can think about is cleaning as quickly as I can in the next couple of hours. I must confess to feeling oddly lethargic about cleaning my bookshelves. You see, I always tend to get distracted by the books...I confess that I have a habit of opening books in the process of rearranging them and the next thing I know; I am halfway through reading it surrounded by stacks of books which should have been on the shelves long ago.

The same thing happens when I clean my wardrobe! Except, I start trying on certain articles of clothing that have been languishing in the dark recesses of the wardrobe.

However today as I sit typing this post I have discovered another source of distraction....the computer. I first spent an inordinate amount of time browsing through facebook and then when I could lolly-gag no more; I began writing this post :P

Thus to conclude I think I have successfully avoided cleaning the mess around me for over an hour and now I must gird myself for the daunting task of cleaning, hoovering, rearranging, polishing etc. :) 

Dear Reader, what do you think is the perfect way to spend time when you are at home? Well apart from the obvious like spending an inordinate amount of time in front of the TV.....

I have a confession I am one of those really boring people who reread old novels. Yes! Even the salacious kind!! ;) Right now though I am being a typical girl and spending time 'beautifying myself ' (my father says that).

I was also thinking that cleaning my room would be a good idea but for some odd reason I became lethargic....So, my mother was on this marathon bout of sunday cleaning and she found an old doll that belonged to me (or was it my sisters?) Anyway I don't really remember...We used to call her the ice cream doll  and I don't know why( I had a teddy bear named teddy bear!!). Still, the sight of her battered body brought back so many memories.

Do you go through moments when the sight, smell or taste of something brings back some bittersweet memory? The ice cream doll brought back a whole lot of pleasant ones from my childhood most of them revolving around my sister. We shared almost everything..one moment we were the best of friends and just five minutes later we could have been bitter enemies, yet we still liked spending time together. The worst punishment for us was being separated and sometimes the adults did just that....confining us to separate rooms just to keep us out of mischief. 

We could never have imagined that we would live in two separate continents back then. Today, when the world is just a click away and all we have to do is pick up our cellphones to call our loved ones, is physical presence necessary to express love?

For me, nothing can make up for the warmth of my sister's hug or the play of expression on her face when I say something cheeky :) In many ways I do love our long winded telephone conversations (that cost the earth) yet, I miss the gossip imparted in hushed whispers in the middle of the night.

Although...I'll probably never admit it in front of her but the next time we meet, I'll give her an extra special hug for all the ones that I've missed. Still, do we ever want to admit to anything remotely nice about our irritatingly perfect siblings...especially if we are the naughty ones?    

Mornings....serene beauty and music

 Dear Reader, it's a little over 5 am on a lovely october morning and there is a nip in the air. My only companions are my morning cup of coffee and the melodious music that I am listening to. As I glance out of the window, I can see the sky turning an interesting mix of grey, blue and orange which tells me that the sun is not far behind.

I just couldn't sleep any longer...for no specific reason and thought that it might be a change to start my day  a couple of hours earlier than usual.There is curious tranquility that one can find only in the morning. In short it is very peaceful in the streets, just before people actually begin to wake up.

Now before you make any assumptions, I have to clarify one important thing: I am no morning person!...to be fair I am also not a nightbird.... I think that I am something of an evening gal. I like evenings, when the tedious part of the day gets over and the fun and relaxation part starts. Yet today, as I occasionally glance out of the window waiting for the sun to rise, I can't help but admire this particular time of the day. Everything is fresh and new and I can see dew drops on the leaves of the tree outside my bedroom which are shining like gemstones in the morning light.


For most of our generation mornings have lost all their charm. When was the last time you came across a morning person? They are indeed a rare breed. :) Most of us begin our days by hating mornings and rushing through it, in a tearing hurry to start our days during the week and the weekends are for lazy mornings, when we prefer not to get up until we absolutely have to!

So what is so special about mornings anyway? Well as an Indian I have to say that for me it has to do with music. Traditionally, a lot of great musicians practice during the mornings. In Indian classical music most of the upbeat ragas or symphonies are composed to be sung in the morning. In the old days people actually got up early just to sing and compose! :)

I believe that it is but natural for people to begin their day on a high note. If we actually think about it most of us begin our day with music. I listened to music everyday on my way to university in England and people listening to music on the train and bus was a fairly common sight.

However, today my eyes have opened to the quiet, serenity of mornings in my hometown. Like a beautiful painting that one sees everyday and gets used to only to really look one day and discover it's captivating beauty anew.

The sun has just risen and it's my cue to sign off. I am off for a run in the cool fresh air....until the next post dear reader....

'Enchanted October'

Summer is all about hot, sultry evenings when most of us want to sit in cool rooms, have refreshingly cold drinks and chill out with friends, winters are for snuggling up in cosy rooms with hot chocolate preferably with a loved one or a good book. Monsoons are for letting that inner child out and spring is the season of fresh flowers, walking in gardens and new possibilities.

Autumn on the other hand is about being festive and unpredictable holidays (at least in jolly old India). You must be wondering about the latter part are you not? Well, here's my explanation....Dear Reader, if you are in India in the month of October, it will be very hard for you to miss the various festivals in different parts of the country. Since most of the traditional festivals follow the lunar calendar, they fall on different dates(in october) every year; hence the unpredictable pattern of holidays.

I saw a film called 'Enchanted April' some time ago; it was about taking the time to find a new facet in ourselves or our lives, basically taking an unexpected holiday to find contentment in our lives. The month of  October this year for me is an ' Enchanted October' as I am content being home with my parents and it is an unexpected boon. 

The generally festive air and good humour amongst people who are all gearing up for the week without work/school etc is therapeutic. We live in an age where people are increasingly leading lonely lives because no one has the time to really live life. We breathe in and breathe out but do we really live? 

So my dear reader, take some time out this October and spend it living. Do what you love most, spend time with the one you love most basically just take some time out and have a Blast!!! All of us need to take a moment in our busy lives and just appreciate it, appreciate ourselves. In my opinion we spend a lot of time hating everything especially ourselves so, perhaps it's time to love ourselves and be happy at the little pleasures in life. So this ' Enchanted October' , have a great time and enjoy life in general, even if you aren't in India for the festivals! :)

An image from the Durga Puja Festival 

 

October.....

Dear Reader, I woke up today and realised something..it's October!!! I know it might seem like delayed reaction but better late than never eh? It's October...it's October and I am still home ( that could totally be a song ).

Now let me explain about October in Indiyeah (that sounds cool) and this might be a cliché but I love my country...especially in October. Why?? Well it's festival season and also autumn which means winter is not far behind. 

This year is special because I am home. I have a confession...I have been behaving like a five year old for the past couple of days. :) I can't stop hugging my parents which is uncharacteristic because I am generally not the touchy- feely sort but my mom especially is super amazing to hug (that is grammatically incorrect but who cares!)

So, have you ever had the recurring impulse to hug someone? I realise that this sort of behaviour is not like me at all, but I cannot help but remember all those times in England when I was home sick and just wanted a warm hug. 

Yes, you've guessed it...beneath my porcupine exterior, I am total mush, especially when it comes to my parents. It's not like I get on with them all the time; we have these amazingly inconsequential fights. Yet, I still remember missing them so much it hurt physically and am just glad to be within touching distance in case I need hugs :)

Plus I had forgotten how cool it is to go shopping without having to worry about money. Yes! my mother took me shopping yesterday and bought me a ton of clothes! Yay! :D

So now you know the source of my joy!

to be continued....

Epiphanies

Dear Reader, the fact that you have a smile on your face and are eagerly perusing your computer screen should be proof....I'm back!!! After the unnaturally quiet September I hope to be back to regular blogging from now. Honestly, I have been a bit down in the dumps lately and I didn't care to rant about my general views about the world at the time :P

Now, on to something that has been a constant in my life for many years, "sudden epiphanies". An 'epiphany'  (I love this word) is an experience of sudden and striking realisation; and I have been experiencing these regularly for a long time. I also get these amazing ideas about books, and plays and even movie plots. 

While all this brain activity is great, it is the moment that they appear that are most inconvenient, I mean what could be a genius idea if implemented, is forgotten and lost because of the inconvenient timing. I am in a way moderately clever( if I say so myself ), yet my tragedy is that all my ideas make an appearance in the middle of the night, or amidst important conversations, in fact the other day I had an idea about a play in the middle of an argument!!! Which I promptly forgot because I was too peeved to remember it by the time I was done frothing at the mouth! (Yes, I was that angry)

I just wish that all my lessons from life and all the ideas I generally have appeared when I had the chance to sit and contemplate. I wish that I could follow through some of them. I just wish that I could share some of my epiphanies with someone before they got relegated at the back of my mind.

Still, here's a thought for you dear reader, "If all our Ideas and realisations came to us at the right time, we would all be Aristotle's, Shakespeare's and Newton's".

If only they were this convenient!! :)

    

The one I can't live with or live without..

Dear Reader I'm back!!! I just had to take this break cause really there wasn't much I could blog about...My life these past few weeks have been exceedingly boring and the last thing I want to be is That!

Anyhoo (I love how that sounds! don't you? :P) I'm back and I want to dedicate this post to the one person that is most important for my survival and sanity....Now don't you wan't to know who that person is eh? Well without further ado I'll tell you My Sister. Yeah, I know...I know every one has this special bond with their siblings so it's easy to understand isn't it?

In my case, my sister is kind of the only person who knows how insane I am and tolerates me without asking me to tone it down. We belong to the same age group (although I'm the older one), so we're super duper close but she has always been the mature one. She is  this unique combination of mature, romantic, idealist with the right dash of spunky and fun. In short, she is anything but boring.


We are complete opposites like chalk and cheese ( she is the cheese). Still, I must confess that I am in awe of her. But hey! all that perfection has the downside of being accompanied by A TEMPER and the stubbornness of a bull. Let me tell you dear reader' it wasn't easy growing up with her. She was often the Galahad to my Lancelot; the angel to my devil....She got away with pranks and was totally merciless in her teasing. But she was also my staunch ally and the one to have on my side whenever I was about to undertake something that had the possibility of coming back and biting me on the backside :P 

I loved her and I hated her! I couldn't decide which...I still haven't. She would borrow all my clothes and not let me wear hers in return..Ugh!( it's not the same thankfully). Quarrelling with her was sort of a therapy and there wasn't a single day that didn't end in shared confidences.

I remember talking to her every night after the parents went to bed, we would just talk about soo many things. She had to tell me how her day went (in minute detail). I told her all my secrets. She was witness to all my silliness as a teenager and also the victim of my teenage angst and rebellion. But through all this she stood by me.

We are grown ups now, living in separate continents and with different priorities but she is still my anchor. Like the true north she is to my moral compass, she always manages to be there with me despite the oceans that separate us. We still have that obligatory vicious fight whenever we meet ( we are horrible to each other) but even the act of fighting with her is unique. It's like a sword fight where both the fighters know their opponent's move before it's made.

Why do I love my sister? There are so many things that I can say in answer but all I will admit to is that I love her for just being HER ( I sort of hate certain things about her too!! ) But in the end I wouldn't want to change anything about her. She is just perfect in her way with all her imperfections and the one thing that makes her unique...her Love for me with all my imperfections ! :)  I love you T.

in which I talk about 'self proclaimed intellectuals'

Dear reader, I am soo excited! Yesterday I had writer’s block and today my muse decided to come back from her little holiday! Any way I am just glad that I can write again without being a dreadful bore. J

I feel really inspired ….no really…totally…Inspired. I suppose that I should also mention that I am bursting to share this epiphany that I got at 3 am in the morning. I often get these brilliant ideas in the middle of the night. Unfortunately I never remember them when I wake up in the morning.

Any way back to the topic that I wanted to discuss…I have often wondered about a certain set of individuals. You may also be familiar with them “the self proclaimed intellectual” *waggles eyebrows*. This is actually not a unique species(the reason I call them that is because according to me they are not really human!), in fact one might find denizens belonging to this group in every classroom (they start young!) every café, every office (in the cubicle right next to you if you are terribly unlucky).

The way to properly identify a specimen from this species is their own proclamation; they aren’t very modest, the way they dress; they dress to stand apart usually in outlandish clothes that are most probably horribly wrinkled and mismatched. They have a curiously eccentric appearance and behavior; they are usually found in the most expensive and exclusive café that are generally patronized by snobs who consider themselves a cut above the rest because of their ideologies.

The reason for my writing about this obnoxious species is to help the unwitting innocent identify a member of this group and protect themselves. I have had the misfortune to fall prey to many belonging to many a pseudo intellectual. I am a normal(ok kind of neurotic but still normal) girl who likes to read good books and watch good films and plays. I am aware of the world around me and as a writer have acquired a sense of the ridiculous. I am however NOT an intellectual nor do I aspire to be one.

 It is true that I read a lot (ok! so I am a bookworm) and have a healthy appetite for fiction as well as non-fiction; yet , I am not at all found of Rushdie or Kafka( I got bored to tears whilst reading Metamorphosis and Midnight’s Children), although I have nothing against them. I love watching films especially film noir and indie movies but I dislike discussing them to death (like allegorical references, camera angles, influences etc etc…Ugh!), I read the newspaper everyday and do not agree with the government on most issues but I am not the adherent to any particular ideology. I like talking and have my own beliefs but understand that every person has a right to live his life according to his belief.

However there is an alarming growth in the number of pseudo intellectuals so much so that I have nightmares of them taking over the world! I refuse to be magnanimous and say that I am ok with them. I am NOT! The truth is that I am disgusted by their insistence on being the sole perpetrators of wisdom, intellect and morality in society.

There is a general refusal among the members of the species to hear any voice other than their own and their biggest defect dear reader is that they think that they have the sole copyright on wisdom and knowledge Aarrrgh!!! They are generally contrary just to be contrary and not because they have an actual opinion. Even the way they dress elucidates my point. Most of them dress in a careless manner but their sloppy dress sense has a studied and careful pattern.

I just dislike being told what to think by a group of individuals who don’t have a mind of their own. I my opinion, the pseudo intellectuals as a group are as harmful to society as neo Nazi skinheads, religious zealots and ultra right wing idiots. Plus they are excessively irritating, mind numbingly boring and also terribly out of touch with reality. The harsh reality is that a common hardworking man can scarcely afford public transport, much less a recreational cup of tea.

So, forgive me dear reader if I don’t feel admiration for the pretentious bore who making grandiose pronouncements about the problems that effect the common man or the ways to solve them whilst sipping an expensive cup of coffee in an air-conditioned coffee shop! * rolls eyes* In my opinion they are full of theories that have no solid background and their opinions have no ground as they have no facts to base them upon.

Truthfully, I pity such people, these slovenly dressed, chain smoking (mostly expensive foreign brands), Kafka quoting, so called liberal ( I have a theory that they are all closeted right wingers) reactive pseudo intellectuals. If that makes me a counter- reactive (is that even a word??? ) snob.. so be it! 

Random post about stuff

Dear Reader, I suppose that my silence after the last post was mystifying....I don't know about you but for me it was strange. I am going through the horrible phase that every writer dreads...."Writer's Block" Ugh!!! I HATE it! I haven't been able to write anything...this has been accompanied by a bout of sickness...you know..the irritating kind where you could be well but you aren't.

So this random post could really be about anything, for instance my life. I lead a really boring life or can I just call it simple? I have an advanced degree in an impressive subject (if I say so myself *winks*) yet, I am still unemployed. I have devised ways and means to keep myself busy like volunteering but, it really isn't the same as having a proper job.

I often get this feeling that I have't really grown up. I haven't had the chance to see the real world! I have travelled a bit, yet I feel like it was all not real. Sometimes, I feel like an observer of my own life. I read somewhere that all of us are the leading men/women of our stories, yet sometimes I feel like a supporting character!

So my question to all the wise souls in the cosmic void is- Do we really know who we are as in 'our inner selves'? I suppose all of us want to have a purpose but do we really know if we have a purpose or are searching for one? 

Love and memories

Dear Reader, today I want to tell you about the first man I loved. I have to say that there was something extraordinary about him. We had this special connection, the kind that makes people communicate without words.

He was tall, handsome had amazing hair and was a smart dresser; you know...he had the kind of unstudied elegance absent from men in general! *rolls her eyes*. He made me feel like I was the only one in the room and his hugs were the best. I felt warm and safe in his arms and he always smelt nice, a unique mix of cloves and starch. :) Even now when I close my eyes and concentrate, I can feel his arms around me and smell him.

I am sure you want to know who this perfect man was and why did I ever let him go? He was my Granddad..my mom's father and absolutely amazing. He died many years ago but I kind of never let him go! I suppose I should say his memories are still fresh in my mind, it is like looking at something through a sepia coloured glass.

My Grandad was the first man I ever loved. I love my dad to bits more than I can say really! However it was my grandad who won my heart first. He was this hugely important man and yet had time every evening to take walks with me. I remember being held in his arms, the texture of the tweed of his coat and the fine silver hair on the back of his neck.

There was something special about him. I loved him not because he was my grandad, I think it was more to do with the incredible feeling of being cherished. I think all of us want to feel that don't we?

Even now, so many years after his death, I still feel his love..... kind of like the sensation of lying on the terrace in December under the winter sun wrapped in a warm blanket. A love that will live on till the day I die and then echo from generation to generation through my children and then their offspring. That's how powerful love is, isn't it?

I miss you Nana papa.... though none go with me, I am never alone, you are always there.... with every step I take.

                    ~A grandfather is someone with silver in his hair and gold in his heart.~

                       Author Unknown