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Some time back I didn’t think that terms like sexuality, feminity or masculinity needed any explanation let alone questioning.
That’s what most of us think even now. Notions of gender, sex, heterosexuality have become such integral parts of our psyche that we don’t even know where they came from???
This is a question that needs to be asked but instead we often assume the answer and that is society. As if we inherit these notions like some family treasure. Don’t we also need to question what society is?? For me it’s a hypothetical, nonexistent hypocritical man made entity. This definition might be wrong, right, it might change or might not but at least I have defined society in my own terms.
Similarly do we not need to give new definitions to terms like homosexuality because what we understand of it may NOT be our OWN UNDERSTANDING.
Language is the best medium for change. One example of this is the usage of the term HETERONORMATIVITY instead of heterosexuality. I got oriented with this term today in a lecture by Gautam Bhan and the people of Nigar Media.
How easy it is to define normalcy. How easy it is to believe in marriage because ‘what the hell! Everyone marries, my parents married and so will I ‘ But I’d like to ask that what is the relationship between love and marriage. Why does love need to culminate in marriage and if it doesn’t will it cease to be love…. NO. It will only cease to be legitimate love, which is another thing to debate upon. How funny it is when people get after your life if you are 22 and unmarried. But won’t care a damn if you are 22 and still not in love.
Maybe what we need now is a new language. Which has no rules and is different for every person. But which allows you to think and define things for yourself. Incase you don’t want to define then also it should be acceptable. We talk of modifying categories… I say lets not form categories at all!!

its all been done before

All maps have been colored in
no more cities to be discovered..

All faiths have been established
only followers... converts... sermonizers....atheists...agnostics remain
choose one and be happy.
How come there are no new religions, no new gods.

All streets have been walked on
no new journeys to make
I will always find inscriptions and signatures of people who have travelled before me
stating that I am just too late....
Someone will always get there before me.

Strings of thought

Words are convoluted, the meaning needs to be found...
memories have been thrown back at me
truth however,standing away from me in a lordly manner
no more entrapments..

Signs of survival
I can get through this
an aurora has been found..

Implication of life.. is life itself
realizations are fewer
accusations are easier
darkness has engulfed me once again

search for the aurora.....

WARNING: ITS ALL CRAP

I have nothing much to say today
But still I want to write...
So its gonna be all crap .... those who dont like crap .... please VANISH from my site!!

Today I can say that I am contributing to the society in a small way.
I am making a film .... he he I wish !!! actually assisting the director who is making a film on sensitizing .... NO WRONG WORD ... simply training doctors about how a standard forensic examination is imperative to raise the conviction rate and provide justice to sexually violated females.

Its interesting ! but I don't know If our approach is right.
IMA gave us a movie which outlined the entire forensic investigation and evidence collection in case of a rape victim. The kind of material they use are expensive, sophisticated. All we have to really do is find a girl who will be a model on whom the examination will be conducted. We are trying to tell the doctors that look this is how a report is written. This is how you look through the microscope. This is how you take the victim's consent before touching her body. This is how you behave in a non judgemental manner. This is how you cant behave with her. This is how you report all findings carefully to the police. This is how you need to follow up after the evidence collection is over. This is how you form a rapport with the victim. This is how you treat her psychologically. This is how you attend to her first and foremost and not leave her waiting till your other appointments are over. This is why you are called God.


I am glad that I am a part of this project. Maybe it is going to be a success ... may be not. Maybe we will get an appointment from Sonia Gandhi... maybe not.
Maybe Rape Crisis Centres will open up in Delhi and maybe not. But its worth a try.

At this point I want to meet a rape victim. There are so many of them ... 3 months old to 70 years old. Raped by neighbour, brother, servant,father, teacher...
I wonder if they will ever be able to trust any man. Even their own husband.
Well thats a different issue .. that I feel strongly about .... Husbands are raping their wives every time they force her to make love to them. It might happen every night. And the fucking society which makes all these rules of marriage never comes to rescue her then.When an unmarried woman has sex with her boyfriend ...she also maybe forced to have sex with him out of the fear that her boyfriend will leave her... we say they made a mistake. We tell the girl to learn to say NO.
But just because now she is married to the same man .... she is expected to do it as a part of her domestic responsibilty or what!!!! Why cant she say nOOOO. And why does it have to be such a big issue if she does. Why is this form of rape LEGITIMATE??.


I know of children who have seen their fathers approach their mothers almost every night ... even when the child is sleeping on the same bed.

Their whole concept of sex gets distorted.


Anyway .. I can on and on about all this. Others might have written pages and pages on the same issue. But the point is that we feel till such time that everything is alright inside our house .... we can only sympathise with other people's problems but what can we really do... IT IS THEIR PERSONAL ISSUE.
But I think there are no personal issues .... all issues are HUMAN.


See I warned you .. I am going to write crap.

I need to complain about lots of things today..................

• Nobody is commenting on my blog
• I am not able to write ... intelligent.. so called 'readable posts'
• I am working on a series of documentary films for UNICEF ... getting 20,000 bucks for 2 and a half months but still the feeling of achievement is not there.
• My stupid old friend is not replying to my messages and calls .... and I am regreting having sent that stupid, weird mail to him which was about some stupid intuition I had long back. I feel that he is feeling weird about it... though there is no need to.
• At times .. I cant say things that i should and when I do the time is wrong.
• There is noone who understands me completely and knows me inside out.
• There is noone I understand completely and know everything about him/her.
• My obsession with the words..... Stupid and Weird.
• My parents never ask why I go for shopping then when I want to go to Jama Masjid .. why do they need a reason!!
• I suddenly get over things and also suddenly get obsessed with others. Like these days I am obsessed with Ghazals and I have completely stopped watching TV and listening to western music.

I am going to stop complaining

coz... the fucking world is not listening and nobody cares!!!!

Fuck the title ... read the post.

I always like being with familiar people.
Some strangers... also.... look familiar.
And if that happens to you..... trust me!
Its not a mere coincidence.

I was sitting with my friends
familiar place..... our usual hangout.
The familiar smell of coffee and the very familiar music.
Just then.... a particular feeling overwhelmed me
when I saw that face..... familiar but forgotten.
"I think I know this guy!" I thought.
Off course I did....
An old friend who had just come back to say "Hey ! you are alive .... good! Me too."

Now, I prefer being a part of the crowd
searching for some familiar faces....
That I might have forgotten.

My old friend keeps quoting from Ghalib, and calls him Chacha Ghalib!!

A quote from Ghalib,
" Kab woh sunta hai kahani meri?
Aur woh bhi zabaani meri?"

There are these moments when you want to say so much. But the other person doesn't want to listen.
Even my poor friends, I really pitty them actually, at times I just go on and on about some thing that happened which was very important to me but not so important to them.
Most of the time its about some guy.
Its so funny, that at times you just want someone to sit and listen to all your stories, the little meetings you have with people special to you.
You just want to repeat everything.. all the events once again... everything that he said.... but there is noone you can tell.... noone to hear it all.

its all "bakwas"

I just inspired my very good friend to start her own blog.
It feels nice to get someone else addicted to blogging.... after I have been won over by it.
Though it's been long.... I guess... and I haven't been able to write anything.
I don't know why!!
Things have happened but maybe not significant enough.
Actually ... I am just too lazy to think..
I hope writing was not such a structured process after all.
Why form sentences... are grammer... and look for words... what If you fall short of words.
There should be some other universal language.
Ok!!! I know I am talking rubbish.
But sometimes I like that.
I am going to stop.
I am going to sleep.. and eat...and sleep again.
yeah! that's how I had planned to spend my vacations but now when I am free from all the work ... I have been spending hours sitting in the office of some developmental organization trying to find some summer job for myself.

Now that I should sleep ... because ... I don't have to study my physiology books any more.... I choose to stay awake almost the whole night ... reading "No guns at my son's Funeral".

Do I always have to things things the other way round.

Do you really know what madness is?

Turn Around...... and Leave
don't ever come back.... this is my life and ill decide who will be a part of it and who will not.
Life is a fiction... fiction is reality... reality is subjective. What is real for you is unreal for me.
You are scared to face the realities of life and thats why you think that what you see is the truth and what you cant see you think it doesn't exist.
Truth cannot be seen... you are mistaken..... you are wrong... it has to be believed.
You think death is real... I think peace after the end of this life is real.
Open you eyes.... no... this time... open your mind.
Turn around the pages of your life .... you ll see you have lived only half of your life. You will die without living your life because you dont want to accept the reality ... the reality is everything you dont have.
You can never possess the truth ... its just there ... it will remain there forever.
No .... don't leave right now.... I haven't finished... why don't you let me say what i want to say? Why don't you want to hear my story... I am sick of listening to your story ... its full of lies... there is no truth because truth has to be lived. Remove that mask .. I want to see what you look like... I want to feel the warmth on my fingers when I touch your face but why don't let me come close... why?.... why are you so reserved... you lie because I know that you are not reticent. You want me to pay attention to you but you stop me from going deep inside your mind.... tell me your secrets ... I want to know them... Don't despise me. Just like you despise truth. Just like you despise everything you can't possess.
Don't tell me to give you reasons for my beliefs, my thoughts, my stories, my fiction.
There are no reasons ... there are... but for you they are unreal.... because you have divided everything into two categories... just - unjust, right- wrong, sad endings - happy endings, fiction - reality.
come out of it.. and live life without any definitions... thats how you will experience truth...there are no two sides of a coin... everything merges ... assembles into one.
ONE.... WHOLE.... LIFE.

just.... in a weird mood.

Look at me....
do you think i am scared?
do you think my spirits are dead?
do you think you will afflict me with your presence?

Once....
I did love you.
once....
I did long for you
I felt your touch was solacing
But now I want to break free.... for myself!

It was only when I looked inside your eyes
dessembling and yet enchanting...
you smiled at my impuissance.
i realised ... I wasn't losing anything
It was all just a phoney fiction.

I cant live the dream anymore.
for you were just a dream .... surreal!
you cannot mollify me any further
you are unreal.... just my imagination.

Random Thoughts

Why are exams always more important than the regular classes.
It seems like throughout the year our teachers only prepare us for these final exams.
At the end of which, you are handed over a marksheet.
your reward or punishment for the year.
so, what if i fail or top in my exams.... what counts more than that one piece of paper is what i learnt in the entire year.
the friends i made, the trips we had, the goof ups, the class discussions, the classes i bunked.
But there is no place for all this in my single page report card..... thats the onl
souvenir... that I must keep.

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I find it difficult to form opinions at times,
I don't understand why opinions are so important
actually they are but so what if everybody doesnt know about what Arjun Singh said or about Megha's fast... I dont like it when people know about everything not because they want to know but because they dont want to be left behind in the intellectual crowd.
I hate most the way people look down upon others who know less than them.
I cant and dont want to know about everything. Why should I know about football or types or rock music or the pubs in Delhi...... just because all young people know. Well tell them to fuck off!

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Some things are important but hyped....
5 shahrukh khan
4 Rang de Basanti
3 Student protest -link this to the spirit of rang de ( now a days on everything and anything)
2 Board exams
1 ummmmmm open to suggestions from you all!

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Why can't some women still refuse their husbands when they dont want to make love and why are they hesitant to tell them when they do!
How does a woman feel after legitimately getting raped by her husband?

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Why do I have to go on a diet and make myself thin.
Why do i need to swim to gain some height.
who said being tall and thin is being beautiful.
Read the matrimonials .... they are a great source of entertainment.

sometimes there is no point in questioning....

I am a seven year old girl.
I have been living on the streets of New Delhi... the capital of India.
That makes me superior to the street dwellers of less developed cities!
For me, Dilli is a city of rich people who drive big cars and live in bunglows
and poor people who live on the streets ... like me!

Everyday I meet tons of different kinds of people
generous ones ... who give me money
seths and sahebs who have abundance of wealth but frown with disgust at my sight.
Good citizens .... who litter on the road and provide us little feasts, occasionally.
Active didis who keep telling us that we have rights
we should learn ... play with other kids
The most silly thing they say is that we should not beg on the streets...
I tell you this city is full of crazy people!!

Once she told me... that this is not my destiny!
I don't deserve it.
I should raise my voice and question everything wrong.. everything unjust.

Lets begin
I question my parents who abandoned me on the station platform
wrapped in a newspaper
burnt my legs
only because I was a girl!

I question that generous man who picked me up from there
raped me.. several times
and left me on the streets to perish.

I question god who created a stomach and hunger
but never provides with any food.

I question the police wallas
who always hit me and ask me to give them money.. when I dont have any for myself.

I question humanity, the human rights commission, the NGOs
who keep talking about us in A.C. rooms
and never do anything real.
There maybe a few exceptions but they are very few and we are many.

I question... because I have learned to question
but i dont think anybody has learned to answer me....

bubbles and crystals

The coffee is warm, drink it before it gets cold
cold coffee doesnt taste good
but what if he likes cold coffee
I never asked him!!

Lets go out, its raining
I have always loved the smell, the sound of raindrops
I want a house with a slanting glass roof
so I can see the water float.. so clear... won't it be wonderful!!
He always remained silent!!

One day i will write our love story
yes, we will ..... we must..... have our own story
everybody has a story....
ours will be full of life, love, emotions.... won't it !!
I never saw him cry ......

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That was fiction and this is reality. A few days back one my class mate passed away. She was my age ... just 19 years old. That made me feel that no matter what you do, how good you are, how bad you are .... you can die anytime ... anywhere... in any way.

All of us are living meaningful lives .. or atleast trying to find meaning in our lives. At the end .. we all want to just be happy and the ways in which we try to achieve this makes each one of us different. Some try to earn money, some find love, some want to have children and then grandchildren and if possible even see their children... some want all. Some just live ... some just die.

I wish before i die
I am able to experience love
just once
my friend died without knowing what it is like to kiss someone...
without getting a surprise birthday party
without taking a walk with someonon the beach
and I dont want to.

I am shouting right now,
to myself and saying
grow up.. there is more to life than just all this sentimental rubbish
(I am in love with this phrase!)
But right now
I just feel that i dont want to die alone
I am not able to say it
but it is a big deal
I am scared of never finding real love
never knowing if it even exists

there will be a story
my story
and the world will read it
i just have to begin writing it
and I will not write it alone. NEVER ALONE.

you know what this "blogging" does to you..
it makes you want to write about everything that happens
everything that you see
be it rang de basanti or those two kids who perform everyday on the traffic signal,
elation and depression......... morsels of time
life, love, death, raindrops, spring, sweat, humanity...
words related to each other
but thoughts unconnected
enslaving others and getting trapped in words
sometimes writing to feel better.... useful... creative
sometimes writing for others... to comment!
writing and not having the guts to publish it.

writing .. writing... thinking... writing...
this doesnt rhyme
looking for adjectives
searching for a better word... synonyms!!!!!!
thinking of a suitable title...(i HATE THAT!)

Suddenly....
i can't write!

Sometimes I just dont care.....

The play rehearsal, yestarday,was good.... i guess. I am on the production team ... there are two more people.... I have to actually play subhani... nice name! She has to carry stuff lying on the stage back into the wings during blackout. She is not dumb .. but she never speaks. What is important is that the group I am working with is the best in Delhi... I didnt know ... mom told me. My friends have not heard the name of the group ... so what ... what do they know about quality theare. We youngsters (I dont like this word) live in our own little world we no nothing. Learn from older people... like moms and dads .. they have experience... that's the key word .. experience.... I want to have my own experience. I am insignificant, but its a big group. "Its too big a thing to even get an entrance into the group... I would have gone even if they called me for prompting"she says. " you must give something to the group when you leave, so they remember you and call you back. "he says. " you have got a very big opurtunity at such an early age" they all say.
I have to be practical. I should not expect. What was I thinking they'll make me the head of production huh! I am tooooooo small..... small.....small....small. I will work hard. I ll do everything that will be given to me with sincerity. I'll clean up the dishes with a lot of conviction. I like the director she gave me the script to read. I am not being sarcastic.

Why am i writing all this. I have got enslaved to this blogging thing. I dont like it. I do like it.
You have to start from somewhere. So many people have started with "maaroing jhadoo" on stage so I should be happy that I am better off.

But I wonder how they felt when they couldn't reach anywhere. When the only next step for them was being promoted to the level of stage management. The terms may be many but the concept is still the same.
I have seen it and I have no fears stating it that people donot respect backstage workers.
especially in theatre.
Dont tell me shit like ... i am too young and haven't seen anything. I have seen enough and I can think.
But maybe thats not true. Maybe I am being judgemental.
Maybe today I don't care if I am right or wrong.....
I am sure ... this is the reality for some of those people who always work behind the curtains. Hesitant to come forward even during curtain call. But they don't forget to wish their actors all the luck before they step on to the stage. And they always have a silent smile on their face.

The play is over... I wrote this long back
but i dont know why I didnt publish it. I probably was afraid that someone might take it as an offence. Now i dont care.

I cry for you , when I miss you
I want to see you again.. and again
does that make me a lover?

I want to kill him at times
I hate the way he is too sure about himself
I want to hurt him
does that make me a killer?

She is the only friend I have
sometimes I want to hug her
cuddle with her ... even kiss her
does that make me a lesbian?

Sometimes I don't say what I am thinking
I rather say what seems right
seems appealing... to others.. not me
does that make me a dissembler?

At times, I cry without any reason
I often experience periods of elation along with depression
does that make me a neurotic?

I got 94% in 12th boards
I topped my school... once in 14 years
does that make me a topper... for life???

I hate definitions
I reject categorization
I don't want to hold on to any schemas
I want to change my way of thinking

let's begin
by not naming my thoughts
this piece will remain untitled.....

I am not sad..... Its just the weather!!!

There are bed time stories .... but no sleep
There are conversations... but no eye contact
There are seasons... but no changes in the colour of the sky
There are dreams..... but no sleep

There are stones..... but no river
There are funerals...... but no cries
There are empty houses... but no homecomings
There is gurgling of water...... but no river.

There are......
counterfeit emotions
white lies
non- belongers
afflictions
forsaken lands
empty roads awaiting visitors
benighted countrymen.......

Let's not talk of hope today!!

NO.... I have nothing against men drinking whiskey or eating chicken!!!

Every day she is dying
trying to live with the man , she called, her "life partner"
and I can only pretend to understand
what she is going through.


Every night she sleeps next to that man
He afflicts her with his breath
she turns her face away, gasping for air
his breath stinks of whiskey. (The man's true love!)
and I can only hope for the night to pass.

I can only try to hear.. her silent screams
I don't intend to change anything
as the man ..... was her true love

I am entitled to my opinion

Men eat chicken.... like they make love to a woman.

My Dad is 56... but he plays with a toy train!!

Today Dad came inside my room...
holding a dirty big cardboard box
and said," have you ever played with a toy train before?" (I had not ) but i said.. what are you talking about??? He opened the dusty cover.
There was a black toy train. The engine was black and the compartments were rust colour.
Everything was carefully placed in the slot cut out of the thermacol. Though the box was old but the content was good as new.
Mom was least excited about the whole thing. We looked for the right place to spread the tracks and join them together in a circle. After we finished, he pressed the switch. (it's an electric train)
...... It did not move...... he tried several times. It still did not move. He got up , looked at it for sometime. Dismantled it and kept in back , inside the dirty box.
... i know...
the little boy inside him must have cried
but grown-ups are not suppose to cry over a toy train.

Good to clean your house (once in a while!!)

Today i cleaned my study, actually... let me be honest, my dad cleaned it . My job was to just glance over all the "rubbish", (as mom calls it) and throw away most of it. Yeah! those were mom's words, "you and your dad have a habit of collecting junk. THROW EVERYTHING YOU DON'T NEED" The junk , the rubbish included scraps of paper, my new year resolutions, old pictures, beads( i don't remember when i collected them), poems (incomplete ones... most of them..because at one point of time I always compared them with others (which were undoubtedly better than mine) and left them incomplete ..... thinking i can come up with something better ... something which people will appreciate.... huh! nonsense!!. Other things like... my slam book, its strange but there was a question in my slam book which said," name the boy/girl you love" and all my friends struck out the word "love" and wrote "like". One of them even wrote i love girls but i dont love any boy... this was in a junior class offcourse! but its funny!!at that age loving a boy meant only one thing .... (and now????)

There were so many things i had written .. just like that on pieces of paper... one liners (by someone else offcourse) few lines of hindi film songs.

My time tables, that i never followed... and still don't. But earlier the time tables used to be elaborate, very descriptive... i had a certain time assigned for everything. Even how many minutes i will talk on the phone and for how long will i read a book. Maybe the only exception was, at what time I'll go to the loo. (This reminded me of the scene in Dil Chahta Hai).

No mom! All this is not junk. these are the only moments that will remind me of the journey i have made so far. How much i have changed. How much is still the same. All my play brochures,all the unsuccessful attempts I made to actually write a play.... reminds of my love for theatre. I had started thinking like any other "responsible adult" .... that i should just study hard.. get a job as a counselor or something in a private firm.. mint money ... and avail all the luxuries of life. But i can't let go of the fun I have when we work together as a team, trying to put up a play, discussing different characters and how you empathise with them. I don't care for chinese or thai... even that aloo samosa with hot tea is great when you have interesting people around you. Adding spice with their amazing experiences.

I didnt just clean the study today... I brushed off the dust that had settled on my childhood dreams and fantacies which still await an entrance into the world of.. reality.

2006

On this new year.....
if you have been thinking of doing something ...
JUST DO IT!

for example.....

If you have been reading blogs
and want to start your own
GO AHEAD.. DO IT! (don't think about whether people will appreciate or not)

Happy new year to everyone!!
:)