Breaking Stereotypes

I was at the National Library, devouring books for lunch, when I saw her. She calmly walked to my table and sat across from me. She was drawing bewildering glances from almost everyone present in the vicinity-not to mention even I was one of them.

And her sheepish demeanor was enough for me to understand that she was quite aware of those gazes. She kept looking at her feet and I kept on looking at her. That is when the girl, who was accompanying her, brought a few books for the lady.

The book list comprised  of a very English literature, world history and all such books that are strictly related to intellectuals-people who are immaculately dressed; people who look well-read and well bred.

Sadly, our lady looked too naïve to be labeled an intellectual. Her sari that was demurely draped around her wasn’t doing much toward helping her making the cut either.

She looked like those women, who are expected to be nothing more than homily goddesses. They are expected to watch mind-numbing soap operas and know nothing of ‘The cultural revolution’, ‘The Great Depression’ or ‘Che Guevara.’

So that day when this plain,drearily dressed woman threatened to uproot all our stereotypes ,I was smiling .Smiling at the thought of this women’s feat. How easily she 

Such harsh and demeaning rendition of a character, isn’t it?

Sadly, this is what we do the second we see someone.

We consciously or subconsciously, make every living entity in sight, fall into stereotypes

So I can be a foodie and still be a martial arts enthusiast, I can be a mediocre singer and still sing out loud. I can be fat and still love to wear whatever I feel looks good on me,I can be a writer and still know a lot about Architecture.I can pronounce a word wrong and can ask

A pause

I sit and think about all that we've had .It all dances in my mind in a flurry of emotions .Sometimes they’re as cold as the cement on a January morning; sometimes they erupt like the brightest red flames.
It’s been hours since I started thinking. Does it make me smile? Does that make you frown, the image of me thinking about you?Is that a question every time I ask you if I love you, or does that make me feel more secured each time I look at your lips quivering to say that precious yes?The questions are many .They come cascading .Do you make me possessive. Do you spoil me crazy with your caring ways? Do I hurt you with my obnoxious ways? Am I pulling too hard at the string that binds us? Does the string still exist   ? Does it hurt your fingers? Do we fight for questions that don’t have answers? Do the answers mean anything to us? Can we see our self-conceited egos laughing at us?Can we look beyond the hurt? Is this the end? Is this all rhetorical? Can we never change?Do the differences that made us now break us?Do you know what I asked? Do I know what you would say?And will that mark the end of a beginning so well?

A loser's plight!

Study table saw what you hadn't read
The dishes sighed for you didn't touch the bread
The closed windows cried as the lone clock chimed
The curtains called you their tears now wiped
Through the  chambers of black and white,
But you looked on ,without a sight!


The dusty keyboard had to wade,
Through the words you had silently said!
Morbid hours that stood in spite,
Of the memories of your respite
"A life so fallen,a life so trite !"
As you looked on,into the night!

Passion was a word which you  said,
Had no meaning in the life you led.
Now when you look back,it stands astride
The dreams you said were not on your side
Is that the reason you look so slight ?
When you step out into the bright !


Life is a journey that can't be led,
By a heartless mind that has no stead!
For summer comes as the spring passes by,

When the air gushes past with a vengeance inside
The angels you blame have no such might
Indispensable lies the loser's plight

This n that

I let my mind ponder
And they said ,
"Oh my! What a blunder !
Do not tread ,a path so dead
For there can never
be peace in thunder."

Still i let my mind wade,raging unafraid
Amidst the bawling plunder
And they yelled ,in their voices so plaid
Banishing me for my sinful wonder

Blessed Be!

The Bountiful Earth and the Brave New Moon
They speak to me through the ancient rune.
The words of air,fire and the merciful tree
Blessed be! Blessed be
!

The cycle

Simplicity was like your mother. She's everything for you when you were a kid. Your heart always returned her love with the same intensity .You clung on to every word she said as if they were little pearls of wisdom. You wanted to be like her when you grew up .You needed her. You cried for her whenever trouble hovered. You could not let her out of your sight .You were scared she'll never come back .You listened to her lullaby with rapt attention and travelled with it to lands that were too simple to be real.
But then you started growing up, you read books and understood fairy lands existed only in your mother's lullaby. You learnt there're different forms of love and they're meant for different people. You found out a world that was bigger than your mom. Full of people. People who had not spent nine months of their lives on you. You were not a part of them and so you also learnt that you were not entitled to a bountiful of unconditional love .
You got hurt and cried and ran to your mom when the world was mean to you.But eventually you started returning the meanness in the same fervour .You cursed, cheated and fought to work your way around the meanness.You now no longer ran to your mom when you were in a mess.You wanted to show the world you were brave and didn’t need your mom. You had your first round of pimples,fought with your mom on things that were not in her control such as those pimples. You had your first crush, your first cigarette and preferred friends to mom.
You admonished books but burrowed yourself into them when exams came calling.
Thought you loved your friends like they meant the world to you but hated them when they performed better.
You fell in and out of love quite a lot of times never quite understanding it well.
You found a job that paid you well but you were never satisfied .You wanted to earn more and that never quite was enough.

You still continued to be the center of your mom's existence though.
Finally you decided it’s the right time to marry and you did with a lot of élan. Everybody came, everybody saw and you conquered them.
You saw the first grey on your temple and dreamt of rooms full of giggles.
You had your first kid.
You felt yourself in his/her breath. You wanted to protect him/her from every danger. You saw heaven in those lovely eyes.Your life had a purpose now -to live,love and die for your child.

And the cycle went on.

The dreamy Doordarshan days.........

Lookin' back on how it was
In the years gone by
And the good times that I had
Makes today seem rather sad
So much has changed
Wish you had remained the same(a little improvising)

The lines from the wonderful song by Carpenters unlocks that familiar yet desolated chamber of memories of that precious childhood-the dreamy days.
And a gust of memories surges past me.Memories of paperplanes,paperboats,Tinkle comics,Panchatantra,Toys,chasing butterflies,lizards,frogs and evry harmless reptile one could think of, but the most reverberating of them all is the memory of "Doordarshan".
During the early when 90s cable television had yet to spread its wings and internet was still unheard of,doordarshan was the undisputable queen of Television.
That was the time when a kid was still treated like a kid and not some potential wiz kid,reality star,a multibillionare manager et all.
That was the time when a kid's imagination was allowed to fly free devoid of the modern day obstacles.And Doordarshan like Alladin's magic carpet helped one in one's escapades.

Shaktiman was the reason many kids .including me,faked tummy aches and risked getting beaten up so that they could watch their brunette and revolving superstar take on Kilwish and romance Geeta.
There was also that 9.30 pm movie every Friday that witnessed many a kid-dad tiffs over watching the movie till midnight.That was still the era when mid-nights were still an unraveled zone for kids.
That was the time when people had the power of Doordarshan.That was the era when soap-operas were meant to infotain. A Dekh Bhai Dekh episode was watched for its fun-filled moments,a day in the life of Reporter was full of some spectacular nail-biting and nerve-wrenching moments.

Doordarshan always makes me reminisce the innocence of my childhood.
Wish I could still wait eagerly for summers so that I could watch another season of chutti-Chutti

But my grown up self is now more prognostic of the perils of summer,so much that it overlooks the sunny side of it.


And while I dive into another episode of the naughty Swami on you tube and type away my feelings on blogger,i can't really complain about my present,can I ?