Friday, 4 September 2015

#NoteToSelf

I regulate my life.
I dictate how i should be treated.
my deeds define My identity.
My intentions make me the person I am.
I was, am and will always be called by the name I am given by my family. I refuse to accept all tags given to me. I do not fit the stereotype.
I am confident, independent, intelligent and bold and my rights will not be questioned by anyone.
I have the time, energy and the interest to worry only about the rights and deeds of my own, my family's and friends'. I will not judge or question anyone
else.
I take my passions, profession, pleasures and personal life way too seriously. I live and let live.
I am different in the way I am and for the choices I have made.
Yes, I am a woman. And a human being before that. and I will never be judged for who I am.
Preachy - something I will be called for the vocal, opinionated woman I am. A tag i do not accept.

Saturday, 14 March 2015

#LookUpStories

A friend’s facebook status prompted me to write this post. And following a prompt is never a waste of time!
So, she’s petrified of cats and wanted to know if people had secret fears. I thought people were reticent only about their fetishes. But after contemplating, the memory came back to me with clarity that I eked out all my years with the embarrassment of the biggest, most braggart fear I sustained. And three months ago, when my touchy subject was touched upon, it sent a blow to my bloated ego!

I confess, I’m lapidified by the idea of traveling all alone in a vehicle driven by a man. Even now, I just cannot walk around on my own in a place surrounded by men. Now, I am not saying I have an aversion to men.

A couple of years ago, I got in touch with a school friend and we instantly clicked. We chatted on facebook and flirted healthy. He suggested we should meet and I submitted that life couldn’t get any better. I asked if I could bring a friend along and he said he doesn’t have a friend coming with him. There, sounded like a date.
“Limited bling, Sai” My girls warned.
I cannot look like I’m coming from a date. Lol! So I settled with denims, a happy, bright woolen top and a pink dragonfly broach sitting on the hill top to the left, eager for his attention.
“I got my friend’s car” he announced pulling out the key with prowess.
Shit. What now?
“Um… umm… I don’t like cars.”
“You don’t–“
“No as in I feel claustrophobic in cars. Rickshaw… we could take a rickshaw!” I aimed at nonchalance which was evidently missing.

Needless to say we didn’t end up in each other’s arms by the end of it. Honestly, I was looking forward to getting away as soon as I could. Not that he bothered me but I was feeling so inept.

Eventually, I improved. I believe in taking chances.
I took an auto one morning for field work. I told the chauffeur the route and waited to reach. If my usual trip took 12-15 minutes he drove around for more than 20 minutes. I yelled for him to stop and he obeyed. There, Murphy’s Law – I came face to face with someone I just couldn’t stand for a millisecond. He offered to help. I couldn’t let these guys know I was scared. I got off the auto and refused to pay.

But one comforting thing about seeing this person was that I could somehow figure I was close to the campus. He was with his group and they were all from my senior batch. I Waited till I heard another auto pass and hired it back to the hostel.

This semester, I was placed with an agency for fieldwork that was around 25KMS away from where I live. I was asked all sorts of questions about my disability starting from whether I was born without eyesight to why I am completely dependent on my coworkers for finding my way. I told them about my fears of travelling alone but it was as good as accosting thin air.
I called up a friend and broke fits into sobs. I asked her to pick me up. I could not bear the idea of returning with my coworkers. I was acting on impulse. I called up dad and he told me to not worry.
He took a while to think and called back. “Hire a radio cab from now on. I don’t want you to depend on buggers and jokers, be self dependant. What do you lack? I only want you to excel in your field and grow successful. You are the best.”
Though the fare worried me, I couldn’t be more grateful to god for my family. I called up Meru customer helpline.

I forwarded the car details to my parents and called dad up to inform him I started back. I cannot deny the slightest pang of anxiety but it filled me with optimism. Completely. I knew I wasn’t alone with the chauffeur, the car was running on GPRS and my parents know which car I am in and who’s driving it. What more could I ask for?

The fare still worries me. My coworker commented “just because you are rich”, does he know shit about how I feel or what my parents do or what they go through when they cut out on other expenses just to see me more independent? Well, when did these people ever understand me in the first place? I know how to find my way, and such positive emotions sprout from what we learn in life.

I am writing this post for Indiblogger’s “Look up Stories” happy hour activity and my first lone taxi ride not only filled me with optimism and hope but also showed me some real action in life. Thank you for helping me share my story with the world.

Thursday, 12 March 2015

#StartANewLife

I was a month short of turning nine when the deputy head mistress looked into my victorious academic history and spoke to my mum about granting me a double promotion. Needless to say my family was elated but the felicity took an age to win over my heart. I was that kid for whom everything had to go the way it went for the others. Chronologically. Linearly. In an ascending array.
“What will I say to people about last year? Everybody did fourth grade, everybody knows the fourth grade text books except me.”
My mother tried explaining to me about how everybody thought I knew so much more than the other kids from my batch and that I already know the fourth grade texts.
But how could that be? I never read those. I resigned. Stayed by myself because there was nothing I could do. My folks were so pleased with me that they spoke about it to everybody much to my embarrassment.
“Ma, what if I fail fifth grade?” I tried my luck. I asked guests and an older kid left me with food for thought.
“Why will you fail? Have you ever failed till date?”
“No, ma. Arti said every class is difficult and it is about how hard we study. What if I don’t study hard?”
“Why won’t you study hard?”
“I will study hard. But what if the studies are harder?”
I was getting on her nerves. What more could she say to ease my worries when she had worries of her own – life in a new country, the schools, the culture, the teaching patterns, the syllabus?
“But I don’t want to study fifth grade, I will only do it next year. After fourth.”
Father intervened and I had no choice. Bam.

Till early 2014, self pride kept me engulfed in its webs. I was the youngest in class, started post graduating at twenty. Somehow, it boosted my ego as well. I thought I was as wise as my class mates who were in their mid twenties. But who knew? Who would have cared to listen if told that wisdom comes with experience and not with degrees or age?

Days passed, misconceptions brooded, troubles copulated, ambitions altered at will. In short, life was fornicating with itself. And I dropped out of college.

The year that was saved finally slipped off my fingers like a wiggly goldfish. The trapping webs of self pride loosened. Array yaar drama chodo dhobi ka kutta na ghar ka na gat ka!

So, in conclusion, I have stories of blunder. And stories of heartbreaks. But the thing with these stories is that they are not special. This is the point. Nothing that ever happened with me is special. Heart aches of all kinds – romantic, familial, platonic, social – are the most common conditions there are. Everybody goes through them. And this – the hour of crisis – is when you realize, that there is still hope, and a speck of strength to pull you up because you’re not close to your death bed yet. And the best part about beginning is that you can begin whenever and wherever!

This post is written for the IndiBlogger’s “Start a New Life” happy hour activity. And I am thinking again.
These past few days have been crazy busy in to the peak season of submissions. And all I could think was “assignment assignment”.

I am back, readers, back in to the fray – consensually. Same college, same course. But this time, with more paid wisdom in the form of the Oxford course in creative writing and unpaid wisdom in the form of all that life has taught me. These are not my happiest days. but my heart is content with my situation in life.

Tuesday, 10 March 2015

Facebook status

Hi.
I am a glutton.
My job is all about making a pig out of myself and I love it.
My hobbies are cooking and baking fancy shmancy delicious everything.
Why am I writing a project proposal?
Bye.

Thursday, 26 February 2015

“Scars are sexy”, he says!

This is a Platonic love confession for a man I know through a couple of formal facebook chats, from friends and well, little birdies that squeak “gossip gossip”. It’d be so unfair if I tell you I despise these little beings. I absolutely adore them for they talk of him.
But guess what happened?
He hid. Went right under the radar and the birdies don’t have a clue. Off facebook, blog deleted. I don’t get to read a thing he has written.

He calls himself P-pod and P-pod loves writing. One breezy evening, over chai and samosa, little birdie said he was terminally ill. That was a moment of yugen in its purest, melancholic form. He had stopped writing on the portal he used to write. He only kept updating the notes section on Facebook. He shouldn’t stop writing. I passively resisted in response to the injustice that the universe was causing. I felt so helpless.

After a few months I dropped out of college and his tenure as a student also ended. After months, I typed his name in the facebook search box and nothing came up apart from similar names. I figured he was one of his kind. My entire being sank down into the bed. Was he still alive? It’s not fair that someone so good-looking and funny had to be returned to dust so early. But his blog was still there. And I re-read the archives he had left behind. Same campus and I had not met him. I felt disappointed with myself.

A month or so later when I decided to visit his portal, it was deleted. I told mum about him and she asked the dreadful question. You know what it is…
Anyhow, the removal of his blog meant he was alive. Woohoohoohoo! But he deleted his blog. Wasn’t the best feeling.

Then, I saw a post from his account on facebook. Miracles exist!

Can’t remember what but I wrote to him. I told him I wish he didn’t delete his blog. I did not ask and he didn’t tell me why. I marathon’ed his notes for a couple of hours before I fell asleep that night.

Currently, he’s off facebook and I forgive his state of hibernation. To be honest, I have a lot of social anxieties myself and I like to be forgiven too.

Thank you, P-pod, for setting my thoughts into words this beautifully and accurately. I think you’re super zuper duper good at it. I only hope you write what you truly believe in.

I also thank IndiSpire on IndiBlogger for the “The Stranger Whom I Can’t Forget!” activity as a part of edition53. I wouldn’t have written all of this otherwise. P-pod, you’re the stranger whom I can’t forget.

Tuesday, 24 February 2015

Discovering self dependance - we're all social animals

“Beware of Destination Addiction—a preoccupation with the idea that happiness is in the next place, the next job, or with the next partner. Until you give
up the idea that happiness is somewhere else, it will never be where you are.” —Lauren Britt
This quote is a punch to my throat - knotting. Strongest realisation so far.
Too early to make a promise, but I'll certainly try giving up my habit of looking for happiness in petty things and worthless people.

Thursday, 22 January 2015

scribbling in fieldwork hours

Fiesta for breakfast
The day got a head start
With a smile on the lips
And trots and skips
Of footsteps and heartbeats
Prepped with wisecracks and witty quips.

Chin-chin to the cheering chirps
That raised the sun with the melodic harps
That blessed the sky with the azure glow
And kissed the crowd with breezes that blow.

Thanking god almighty
For days that slide
Like Santa and his elves
Down the dark chimney
To brighten huddles
With hues in motley.

Sunday, 18 January 2015

The best quantitative research methodology lecture so far!

I wrote this in class. I’m not proud of writing things apart from notes in class but I love how the best of my creativity unleashes in classes that are difficult to follow.

So we were asked to write a descriptive peace and I could only write this! and I can’t figure a title for this one.

Okay here we go…

The horse had a boney horn,
Hoofing on her head with prowess
Unlike Ms. Buggy the cow
Bearing a wealthy saddleback.

The dog meowed after
The tiger that took a rain check
While the mouse his highness
Lounged awaiting his pray.

Tiny humans with hands and feet
Crawled in a damp milieu
In the mansion of inheritance
Of the herculean ants.

The rose carried foetor
Gazing enviously at the mighty fair crow
But lizard the wizard
Had a mightier stance!

Zombies had a Leonardo DyCapreo
Sea monsters had sexy boys next door
King cobra’s asset was
That he could cook gajar ka halva.

Satan got his sweet way
In my little ditty
I wonder if jalapeƱos are peppers
In this Parallel universe.

Friday, 9 January 2015

Has lo, kameeno!

I live a hilarious life. I live amongst hilarious people. I say hilarious things. My professor has a “Hillarios” name!
Don’t believe me? Read on!

Side note, as well as potentially useful information for my foreign blog readers: dudes and dudettes, learn Hindi. Watch Shah Rukh Khan. Indian humour is something you’re missing out!

Kanu in pain – “Aaaaaaa!”
Me – “Kya hua bhenchod?”
(Realization hits, I’m stepping on her foot!)
Me – “Sorry.”
Kanu – “My foot!”
*Both of us die laughing*

Me – “Why aren’t there any mushrooms on my plate?”
Arunima – “Ummm… You ate’m all!”

Naamu – "Hi, Sai-Pie. What's up? What are you doing?"
Me – "Hi, Mousse. Grilled vegies up to the throat. i'm doing the job of a pig."

Professor Panchal – “How many of you hail from a rural part of India? (Picks Kapai out of the few raised hands) You tell me, did you run around the keth as a child?”
Kapai – “What’s keth?”
Professor Panchal – “Sure you’re from rural India?”
Kapai – “Yes, the part of rural India where Hindi is not spoken!”
(proud of you, bro)
Me: “Do I look scary?”
Gopika: “yeah, I think so.”
Me: “My student’s dad said to his 2 year old chup hoja varna madame tujhe kamre mein band kar dengi!”
Akhil: “Fuck you nahi bola tune?”
Gopika: “Don’t listen to him, Sai. Never say kinky shit to people who don’t look like they’d be good in bed!”
(I think Akhil choked)

Me – “Kanu, open the door?”
Kanu – “Yeah.”
Me (sounding sullon) – “What’re you doing?”
Kanu – “Leti hui thi.”
Me – “Creativity?”
Kanu – “Leti hui thiiiiiiiiiiiiiii bhenchod!”
Us – “Hahahahhhahahahaahhahahaahhahahahahahahahahaha!”

Vandy – “Poor kids… what math did you teach them?”
Me – “11+12=23.”
Vandy – “That was instant. How many times did you rote 11+12=23? 11+12=2311+12=2311+12=2311+12=2311+12=2311+12=2311+12=2311+12=23!”
Me – “Shut uuuuuuuuuuuup!”
Vandy – “What’s next? 2+2=4?”

Nilabh – “Like the English add S to denote the plural form of things, Jharkhand mein log end mein ‘un’ lagate hain.”
Me – “Jaise?”
Nilabh – “Ladki ke end mein “un” laga?”
Me – “Ladkiun.”
Nilabh – “Good… United Kingdom ka capital kya hai?”
Me – “London.”
Nilabh – “haan. Ab ‘ON” hata?”
Me – “What the fuck! OMG hahahahahahahahahahhahahahaha!”

Richa – “I need to prove to people that I am from Patiala!”
Me – “And how are you gonna do that?”
Richa – “We got them Patiala pegs, bhenchod!”

Me – “Hi Rafiq, how’re you doing?”
Rafiq – “Good. Sorry I don’t shake hands with girls.”
Me – “dying virgin isn’t very hard, is it?”
Rafiq – “S…sorry?”
Me – “Why don’t you shake hands with girls?”
Rafiq – “In islam it is wrong to touch an unmarried girl’s hand.”
Me – “As-Salaamu-Alaikum.”
Rafiq – “Wa-Alaikum-Salaam.”
(He never spoke to me again)

Anu – “I called you. Your phone was busy.”
Me – “Oh.”
Anu – “But I enjoyed it. You were on the phone and I realized my call wasn’t on waiting. The Marathi automated voice was cute so I kept listening to it for n number of times.”
Me – “Say whaaaat!”
Anu – “What to do, everytime I call you, your crazy influence rubs off on me!”

Me – “I’m not a dainty lady. Hey, that could be the title of a new blog post.”
Sudha – “But I’m a dainty lady.”
Me – “I’m talking about my blog.”
Sudha – “Oh.”
(A couple of days later)
Me – “You’re a dainty princess and what am i?”
Sudha – “Awww what do you want to be?”
Me – “A bombshell!”
Sudha – “Totally suits you.”

Kanu – “Sit down.”
Me (softly) – “No my bum hurts from sitting.”
Kanu (loudly) – “What?”
Me (softly) – “My bum hurts.”
Kanu (Even loudly) – “Whaaaaaaaaaaaatttt?”
Me (exasperated) – “Pichwade mein dard hogaya hai bhenchod!”
Kanu – “Ohhhhhhhhhhhh!”

Me – “The chicken’s baby is a chick. Good. The lion’s baby is a cub. Good. What’s the horse’s baby called?”
Vandy – “Uhm… Uumm. Aaaaaaammmm.”
Me – “Mmmmmmmmmm…”
Vandy – “Hub! Hub! Horse hub horse hub horse hubby hubby horse hubby horse!”

Me – “Oh yeah valentine’s day is coming.”
Mum – “Your boyfriend’s name starts with K?”
Me – “What K? Why K?”
(Failed at nonchalance, miserably)

Dad – “A mortgaged home, a car on loan, and a boyfriend arrest growth. Stay away from all the three!”

Me – “Let’s enjoy life. Life is full of crap anyway and nothing’s gonna change that.”
Richa – “Yeah, have the time of your life.”
Me – “Tum bhi karo crap!”
Richa – “Do you realize what you just said?”
(Sinked in two days later)

Me – “Hey I know who she is, she looked hot for the farewell. Her blouse was literally balancing on a string and if that came off…”
Nilabh – *Amused* “Did it come off?”
Me – *thoughtful* “Haan?” *firm* “No!”
Nilabh – “That was just the follow up question! How did you know anyway?”
Me – “She went to the loo with me and she asked me to tighten it for her.”
Nilabh – “Don’t get me wrong but this makes me want to be a Vision impaired lesbian!”

Trupti (my scribe) – “She made me open Wikipedia on my phone during the exam.”
Kailash – “Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa?”
Me – “What am I missing, bros?”
Kailash – “Log kehte hain ki agar insaan ka koi dost na ho to google ki dosti ke sahare zindagi kaato. Tum ne to seriously le liya hai yaar!”

Me – “Did you know that the leading lady’s name in The Inheritence of Loss is Sai? And there’s a character named Nauni and I live in Nauni, Himachal Pradesh.
Arunima – “Okay so it’s basically Kiran Desai referencing you. Like they throw in references in pop culture!”

Kanu – “What’s your zodiac?”
Me – “Leo”
Kanu – “You’re a leo too?”
Me – “Yeah.”
*tubelight flashing on feebly*
Me – “Who else is a leo?”
Kanu – “Oh crap!”
Me – *Makes a face*
Kanu – *Clears her throat and pregnant pause*
Kanu – “Shourjya is also leo, no?”
Me – “Yeah. Asshole is also leo. Don’t say it again.”
*Totally died laughing*

Me – “Daaku mera daak mere baby tak pahonchayega.”
Richa – “Daaku? Daak?”
Me – “The postman will deliver the parcel to my boyfriend.”
Richa – “Please go Google dhakia and daaku! I should get you a Hindi dictionary for your birthday!”
(Holy shit)

Nilabh – “Ever wondered why I’m so wise?”
Me – “Why?”
Nilabh – “Tere side mein ek pedh hai, usshi ke niche bait ke gyan leta hun.”
Me – *Gets up, joins palms, touches forehead to the tree*
Nilabh dies laughing, I join in!

Smriti – “Nikki agar main tujhe apni potty dungi to tu khayegi?”
Me (mouthful of choorma) – “Mmmmmmmmmmmm” *cringes*
Niketa – “Agar main tujh se bolungi Smriti apna potty dena tabhi dogi na tum mujhe?”
*clutching stomach, mouthful*
Kanu – “Point!”
Manisha – “Yaar mere ghar pe hota hai. Smart kid ke achievements pe dumb kid ko kehte hain ‘Tu uske potty khaane layak hai, tu uski potty khaale teri zindagi
safal hojaygi’.”
Kanu – “Cousins ki yaad aagayi. ‘tujhe main apni potty dunga.’ ‘de kar to dek saale!’”
Me *still clutching stomach, mouthful, silent tears*

Me – *Zoned out in class*
Professor Jojo – “What do you want to name your kids?”
Me – *Zoned out*
Professor Jojo – “Yesterday my wife came home and she was completely depressed.”
Me – *Zoned out*
Professor Jojo – “Do I need someone’s permission to die?”
Me – *Self thought* “What’s happening?”

Vandy’s status – “My dad is the worlds best daughter's {SAI VANDITA MADIREDDY} dad.”
Dad’s comment – “News to us.”

Kunal – “Men aren’t dogs.”
Me – “No men aren’t dogs. Dogs go to heaven. And you’re being an… forget it baby, I can’t abuse you!”

Richa (shows me a scale) – “Here to here, six inches.
Me – “So?”
Richa – “Six whole inches, Sai.”
*Realization hits*
Me – “OMG! How?”
Richa – “How, exactly is the question! I’ll die!”
(I was a teenager, wasn’t I?)

Anu Ninni (my aunt) – “Akshara Hasan is okay looking but she has cat eyes like mamma.”
Me – “um, whose mamma? My mamma or your mamma?”
Anu Ninni – “chhi! What Sai?!”
Me – “Oh her own mamma?”
(who’s more obtuse?)

Deachen (to me) – “Chanda Mama kitna pyaara lag raha hai.”
Me (to Kapai) – “Chanda Mama ko dekho!”
Kapai – “who’s Chanda Mama?”

Richa – “I know this has taken an unhealthy turn but his message was adorable. Like I was his best mistake.”
Me – “awwwwww… But nawwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww!”
Richa – “Nawwww? Awwww kisi ka sense of humour improve ho raha hai!”

Me – “you have been drinking?”
Nisha – “I have been drinking?”
Me – “you have been drinking!”
Nisha – “when was I drinking?”
Me – “didn’t you just say you’ve been drinking?”
Nisha – “when did I say I have been drinking?”
*urgh*

Kapai (handing Piyali her phone) – “ye lijiye tumara boyfriend.”
Piyali (cuddles Kapai) – “you remind me of the dog from despicable me and I’m the little girl running after it!”

I sendt my mum a picture of me holding a baby chicken. She wrote back “Both the chicks are beautiful!”

Amit (On the class chat) – “Does Arunima have an alternative email id?”
Arunima – “No, dodo, she prefers punk!”

Meenakshi – (about Komal) “Here’s the hot one.”
Me – “How hot are you exactly?”
Komal – *leans in* “I’m this hot.”
Me – “Uh… I’m hotter and I don’t need to lean in to make you go fuzzy!”
(I wish I read expressions better)

Me – “pumpkin, you don’t look good in shirts!”
Kapai – “I’m removing my shirt!”

Sachin – “Hi Sai cuty pie.”
Me – *blows a raspberry*
Sachin – “Hi sai chicken fry!”
*highfive*

Richa – “Don’t lose hope just yet, sweety. Maybe you could steal a little goodbye kiss before he leaves.”
*I died*

And last but not the least…

Me – “thank you, Sir. Very kind of you. May I know your name please?”
Professor H. Beck – “You may call me Professor Beck.”
Me – “Alright. Is Beck short for something, Sir?”
Professor H. Beck – “Beck is my Family name. I don’t tell people my first name.”
(Few days later, I get a friend request on Facebook from a certain Hilarios Beck)

Monday, 5 January 2015

Hello, awesome peeps. Have I wished you a happy new year yet?

Five full days into 2015, but my brain will still not shake offfffff the feeling that the ‘90s were ten years ago! Lol! DDLJ and Shah Rukh Khan are old!
I have omitted SRK’s name from my get-creepy-about-favorite-men-list after Happy New Year. I mean what exactly happened for 2.5hrs in the movie hall that evening? Even Vaseline couldn’t help my brain recover.

I spent my new year’s eve with a pizza, garlic bread, jalapeƱo dip and coke. And a book. I started reading the lover’s dictionary and decided it wasn’t meant for me.
Then I swore to myself. That I’ll stop being my old, lazy bones self, that would wake up late and retire early.
Then I came to accept that however the year unfolds, that it will unfold.
So I’m going to do my bit and chill. You do the same, yeah?
2015 brings with it many promises. Here’s to making it count.
So I wish for you and myself a miracle if those really happen. Or else, let’s make do with a happy accident like finding a note in the unwashed jeans pocket or bumping into someone we’ve been hoping to see. I hope a dream comes true, like 2014 had one in store for me in the form of ten grades Oxford result. Sure, I strived my ass off for it. You do that too, for whatever you want.
Should I pray for a blessing in disguise for us? Because they usually bring lessons, right?
Let 2014 rub off its awesomeness on 2015, however little a bit it maybe. Past is prologue, they said. So I’m carrying into the future all the good habits I put on, the right choices I made, the skills I developed, the achievements I earned, and the hope I learnt to hold on to. For the current year and further.
You do the same.

Happy New Year.