Love!

Have you ever loved someone?... Truly loved... Its...its beautiful, so damn beautiful.

 To love the way they smile, to love the way they screw up, to love the way they speak to you..to witness your heart skiping a beat the moment you hear that voice....every single time. To love someone so much that it fills you up, completely. To love the way they surrender and speak their mind, to love to see them being themselves. :)

Love is beautiful. It is such an amazing experience yet I seldom see people speaking about it. Beauty to feel lost in time, to sink in eyes, to hold hands, like those nerves at the centre of the palm have a direct connection to heart, you connect and become one. To have that smile of having some you love. 

Love is effortless. You would be in for a surprize, to know you could love someone so much. You just know that its gonna last, you know it from the very first moment but the reasons take time, the mind takes time. Also, I think you never get over it, you cant. I think, you just stay eternally grateful for the that time, your little forever.

 It's...beautiful... and that's the only word I have for it. Go, love someone today. Even if it means a heartbreak, it would be worth the ride!

Friction

I am so glad to about this awakening generation. A generation where people are not scared anymore to talk about Rapes, Abuse, Harassment,  in public or with parents or with friends...We have become an open minded generation. More rapes are being talked about. It is nice. Supposed to be so.

I am an independent strong women. I have participated in the freedom/independence/billion rising marches with full sincerity. I have argued the right way with the wrong thoughts. Though, only last week, in the solace of my own thoughts I realized how much scared I was than brave. When one of my friend confided in me saying the protests have instilled more fear about safety, stopping her from stepping out after 8 PM. Only then I realized how much scared I was too. So scared, but not willing to accept that I named it a fight, used offence as a defense.

Scared that my heart skips a beat when I enter an empty road even during broad daylight. So scared that I put my GPS on even in a private travels bus. So scared that I checked a hotel booked by company ten times in google/just dial/make my trip wherever I could find information to ensure that it was not fake one.Scared enough that I do not have much arguments for my parents against the eternal "don't go alone". With so many writing about it, I can feel all the stares in room, more groping than before. Before, when I would just take it as way of life and ignore.

Yes, I am scared. Because I know those rapists have committed the brutal most crime and escaped. Previously they just escaped but now they escapevand everyone knows about it. Everyone knows that it is easy. Everyone knows that no one can be caught, that the ministers will always think Sita did wrong and that public speech dies. Scared because I know in front of that one thought, I would be helpless.

Also because for this generation, in a subtle way, gender sensitiveness has become funnier issue. Guys would make gender insensitive jokes like before. But now they would quote unquote with all the hand gestures, 'sorry we made a "gender sensitive" joke. Please don't mind'. Yes, that makes it so much better, thanks for the alms. It looks so much cool to talk about the issue without actually thinking about it or acting on it.  Now, I am tired. No, I did not fight any battle at Jantar Mantar, but I am tired of this mental circus. Tired of the men around, tired of wanting to escape but only falling back in depressing web of justifying men and their actions and women and their importance, tired of being tagged feminist, tired of fighting the useless battle. Dear Men, grow up.  We are not another specie but pretty much like you, only more human!

Any change has always created friction. If the cost of this change which promises to bring a better society is this friction then I am ready to face more. With a mere hope that in generations to come, humans would be treated as human and not categories. I gear myself for more challenges ahead.

Saraswati

Conversations

When the eyes answers and questions

more than words do

When that curve on lips tell

a bigger story

When your fingers within mine

are the best reassurance

And the mere touch of toes

is enough to cause the tingle

A gentle caress on the head

shows all the care

And that hug, that hug 

seems the safest place

When silence is a thousand conversations

And a naughty nudge marks the end of all the fights

Love,as you taught

Love, as we lived!

Saraswati 

And Still we hear it...

As promised, I have the saaga of the Caste System, for us.

Its been two days here and it has left me high and dry. I am not drawing any conclusions here about our country but merely sharing an experience, just an exxperience..

                                                 

Not that we were never aware of this problem before but seeing it being practiced hard to the core is wonder and amazement in itself. Our first encounter. A degree college Brahmin "professor". His analogy"Just like each there are good and bad varieties of seeds of rice , so are humans". Wonder what is he teaching at his college.

The small village of Barpar is divided into four sects separated by wide roads,crossroads, the muslim area, the harijans, the SC/STs and the Brahmins. While Gorakhpur as a city sees so much of development, women wearing jeans and shorts, Barpar have Muslim women who havent crossed there area of their tribe ,forget going beyond barpar. If brahmins, they havent crossed the boundaries of their homes, thanks to our very old Pardas System.THEY ARE LIVING IN A RADIUS OF 200 M. 

Hell yeah! the good part is the Sarpanch tenure is rotated among these SC/ST/RELIGIONS/TRIBES. It has it's own pros and cons. Too late to get in that debate for the it keeps the people in harmony and secularism. That's what we are, aren't we, a secular state.

Saraswati

Not 60 Years Back!

A series of posts, for you and for me. My experiences at one of the smallest and oldest villages of India, Barpar, an India away from India, in the corner of Uttar Pradesh, tells it's own story. A living history of the country. Something I thought ceased to exist is in life and form, Barpar.

  In parts. here is the first one-

Ah! the Saaga of Caste System. Yes, there is a lot to write on this but a small part of this brutal system, which deserves a special mention. A story that shook away the pride of everything.

Moosahar -heard the name before?!. It is a tribe of people who kill the rats -which gather in the rice field after harvesting- to eat them. Yes it is true! And there are 10 lakh of such people in India. One such village was were we had been to today. Till an year back they hadnt heard of electricity ..Not that they had very frequent power cuts.. no no..THEY HADNT HEARD OF POWER AT HOMES..Reason-they are the untouchables of the village, not to be talked to.

Thanks to an OLD couple who adopted that part of the country, opened a school there. The couple say "till last year students from higher caste wont sit with them, share lunch box/eat beside them nor play with them. But now with education, the divide is decreasing. They go to each other's place and play. This recieved a wide criticism from the higher communities around. They said if you educate them who will do the labour job, but we were persitent and we see the change.  It is little but it is there." 

This community is known for making beautiful woven baskets, which are sold in cities at prices much higher than they are bought at. Poverty struck them so hard that a father charged money from her daughter to drop to her hospital for tuberclosis treatment.

She died! Because she couldnt visit the doctor the next time! Because

she didnt pay him the last time and he didnt take her the next time! They exist! They all do. Very much in our own world having a world of their own!

Saraswati

Disappear!

I want to be a magician. Be a magician and bring a smile, create a thunder and disappear.  Disappear in to thin air and no one knows what I do, ever. What they know is only that smile. I want to be a part of that exclamation, of that one moment and disappear. Disappear in such thin air that even I don't feel myself. Become a part of that illusion that eludes people forever. Illusion that tricks, brings a smile but doesn't stay along. I want to be a magician where only I know my tricks. Tricks discovered in deep solace and isolation.

And when God shall come, I ll trick him too. Trick him so that he never tricks me, to heaven or to another life. I ll leave him puzzled but with a smile, shall tell him how magic rules life, no age, no class, all genders aside.. Shall ask him to make me a magician forever. Dissolve me as person, let magic reside. 

Saraswati

Vo Hostel vaali evening a.k.a Halwaa'e' waali shaam

A Sunday evening-holiday after week long of work, a  sumptuous afternoon lunch followed by a nap.

"Get up, it is 5 pm. How many times should I tell you not to sleep beyond 5..aa aa aaa  " , I was woken up with my mother's usual wake up call. The dim lit room, unstinting to open my eyes, I was wondering how on earth did I lose touch of her wake up calls. I wondered even more, what we used to do at 5 PM when at IIT, who used to wake me up and that followed a long time of memories unforgettable.

I still remember the first year when we would finish classes at 5:30 pm, come to our rooms, fresh up and then take our room-mates for evening snacks. You know how kid-like we were. And by second year we would rush from the class at 5:20 so that we could avoid the mess line. "Washing hands,freshening up..what?!!?"
To our journey to final year, when our day started with evening snacks :D "the bliss of doing nothing"

The I dug some more, when the memory brought up some amazing and happening evenings. Let me take you through them :)

"The one where wing-mates swear to wake you up and not even Gods could stop them"

"Vo Nautanki vaali Kabaddi ki shaam"

"Vo pehle Birthday vaai shaam..Kyunki bhai, raat ko tho hum so jaate hain (1sy year)"

"NSS waali shaam. TOW the social work and Cute waale clothes ;)"

"The evening  with the first stage dance! :)"

"Vo ek hi Tarbuz ko 12 log khaane vaali shaam"

 

 "Vo Dance practice karne waali shaam, vo steps bhoolne vaali shaam"

"The evening with the actual stage performance, the evening of Bong Bindis, 

Boy-cut Jada and  Telugu thumkas"

 

           
                                                     

"Vo gaming vaali shaam! "   

"Khaana Banane waali shaam. The one where one cooked and 4 posed ;)"

"The evening with all the prayers! :-)"

"The KtJ evening!"

"ILLU ke rozgaari waali shaam! "

The evening of exam and power cut! "Albert Einstein waali shaam ;)"

"The evening with SF and Nautanki."

"World CUP jeetne waali shaam!"

"The one with evening snacks! "

"The one with nothing else to do a.k.a Vellapanthi vaali shaam"

"Pehle Hookah'e' waali shaam"

"Farewell dinner waali shaam!"

"Vo Good-bye waali shaam!"

No wonder evenings were this happening that life passed in splash of time. I dont remember life before Halwaa but life after was for sure, one hell of a journey...Here's to a long lasting and happening  friendship  ..

Grateful to all of you for being born! 

Saraswati