No, I a'int done yet

With entertaining, confusing, irritating and informing all you lovely readers out there. And as in the words of The Terminator: I shall be back. Wait up, was it him or Godzilla who said that now? Serious confusion !!

A fetish or a secret love... but it's not what you think!

(Thankyou http://primitive-art.deviantart.com)


I'm guilty of  a secret double romance. And their names are  Flipkart & Uread.

True, as is the nature of human beings, I did get pissed off with both my loves especially since they had this annoying habit of sending me my purchases one after the other and not as a single package as I had instructed. However, after a few words went flying about and I threatened both of them that I would find another website that knew how to follow a customer's precise instructions ( How I love the Internet!!), somehow everything just fell into place! So, in case you felt that customer service was long gone and buried 12 feet under, let me tell you that putting down your actual thoughts in a feedback form may just be the lacking magical touch.

Anyways. I used to wonder what people loved about sitting like dorks at their laptops and purchasing anything and everything from underwear to upholstery. Till, I painfully admitted to myself that even though I love book-stores, the soaring rates of books on the whole was making it just too difficult for a bookworm like me who loves to read and is on a mission to own the largest library (atleast in my colony!), to make this dream a reality. And that dangerous thought entered my brain- ' Could it be possible, that maybe I just may find the books I want at a discounted rate?' And that's how Uread.com came into my life.

There's something even more mesmerizing about surfing the site. I feel like a little girl lost in an actual world of books. One click and you can add a title to your wishlist, another click and it's in your purchase cart, a final click and it's on its way to your doorstep. What's there not to love? And since I have a problem of staying loyal to brands, I decided to check out Flipkart for myself. Yes, the fact that they had such cute ads on TV featuring little kids won my heart! And if Uread.com was Disney World, then Flipkart was half of America. Yes, hypocrite that I am, I used to giggle at the thought of people buying creams and hair- dryers and belts and bags and laptops on this site till I realized that the day was coming, when I too would be guilty of the same.

What is it about the power of online shopping that's such a magnetic force? Is it that one gets to be lazy and shop at the same time? Is it because Uread doesnt care if I haven't brushed my teeth or that I'm looking at new releases in my last night's nightie? Or is that one actually gets to look at so many brands all under one roof without having to shop at multiple places? I think it's probably a weird sense of power in a way, at least for me.

And as with all things that secretly radiate a spell of power, I find that of late I spend almost every day with both these loves of mine. I simply enjoy going through all the titles on display and adding them to my wishlists. And I have more than 40 titles in each wishlist that I would love to add to my library someday. No, I can't afford to buy them right now, but someday if I do win the lottery or find a treasure chest of green notes, at least I won't have any trouble thinking about where I should spend it !! Seeing my wishlist gives me something higher to aim for, and I'm thinking of what I can do to earn a bit more so that I still have my eye-sight when my library becomes a reality. But for now, online book surfing is a secret love that doesn't look like it's going to go away anytime soon. After all, it would be termed cruel on my part to dump both my new loves, wouldn't it?

An Overdue Blog Post

My last post was in October 2012, and I've been asked time and again by loved ones as to what exactly was the point of making a promise to write at least 3 times a month, if I just can't keep my promise. Valid question, I reply. And profuse apologies to your my dear reader for not having invaded your thoughts (with your permission, of course!) for over three months now.  Yes, I had a chance to bore you with the usual New Year Resolution list (with impossible to keep resolutions!) and with almost the whole nation lighting candles in the memory of a soldier called Nirbhaya, I could have seized the moment and written another feminist specked blog post. I chose not to.

Not because I didnt have anything to say (Hell! THAT's impossible!) and not because I did not want to discuss the topic, but simply because I felt mentally weary. Weary of being a part of a hypocritic nation that worships Goddesses and which has 100's of mythological stories about 'Sthree Shakthi' but one which does not feel that an ordinary woman is worth fighting for. Weary of the age old debate of Men vs Women; why a man is entitled to everything life and society can offer and exactly why a woman isn't. Weary of the simple fact that it takes ordinary citizens to hold vigils, light candles and to march in unison just to send a message to the government that it's time it sits up and takes notice. Weary of the nagging 6th sense telling me that Nirbhaya was going to be the headlines for maybe a month, till the next scam came along. And yes, that is just what happened. Weary, just knowing that I may not have anyone to actually protect me should anything happen to me and that yes, it makes sense to be tough enough to fight my own battles. Weary, because rape/abuse/assault is a traumatic enough experience without the added humiliation we subject every woman who is brave enough to open her mouth and to fight to. In a simple sentence- I stayed away from writing anything about that brave girl because I had nothing to add, I had nothing new to say, no radical opinion to offer and all I could do was sit in front of this laptop and hang my head in sadness.

Today, I have tears thinking about how one of the main accused is going to walk away scot-free because he is a 'minor'. Yes, he was adult enough to rape, torture and strip a woman of her clothes, but the confusion with regard to his age is his saving grace. And the others have all pleaded not guilty to the charges as well. Where is her story going to end? I don't know but I hope for the sake of her soul, that this country will give her the justice she rightfully deserves.

I liked a banner I saw once on the news- ' Don't tell us what to wear. Teach your son to be a gentleman.' As a mother to a 4 year old, who will someday become a man in his own right, teaching him the importance of showing respect to women is one of the first lessons I have begun teaching him. Someday, I would be proud if he has the guts to stand up for a girl, to do what was right irrespective of what is considered' cool' or 'uncool' by his generation. And as my mom says- 'Being a parent is a life-long process. It never really ends.' She should know. She's been an awesome one for the past 30 years.

With my thinking cap on.

I turned 30 on September 12. And, unlike all other birthdays where I have this genetic habit of announcing my D-day to the world, this time all I wanted to do was pull the blanket over my head and lie still with my eyes shut.

Why? Age is just a number and 30 is but just another year. There will be a 31, a 32, a 40, a 50, and who knows how many more. It's just that I feel overwhelmed by those two digits '3' and '0' that I can't help feeling that half my life is over and I really don't have anything much to show for it.

On one hand, I can now strike ' Being a mother by 30' off my list. But, ' Having my own place' hasn't happened as yet, considering I'm still living with my parents and sister. Neither has ' Have a dog by 30' although I do have two Fisher birds who are forever thinking of ways to escape from their cage. Little 007's that these two are. I also have not managed to do anything much career wise, but I can also strike ' Impress the world with my writing by 30' off my list [ side-note: if not the world per-se, atleast a few clients sitting in America;-)]. And I've also done ' Get atleast one poetry book printed by 30.' Plus, ' Have a decent library by 30' because I must admit that my library is very very decent and does justice to my love for literature and books that the world usually does not read !

What else? ' Successfully lose more weight by 30' is still a project that will probably reach its successful conclusion by the time I'm 6 feet under. And so what if I dont shed kilos by then, according to science I will lose 24 grams anyways, even if I'm lying absolutely still. [ In your face, all you sweaty stinky gym addicts]. mmmmmmm, what else?? ' Travel the world with a back-pack' by 30' is yet to happen, although I can honestly say that I have traveled to quite a few cities with a diaper-bag.

I need something; a list to give me some more perspective on life for the next 10 years and I hereby resolve that I will by age 40:

- Learn Spanish and Italian. And impress both sets of natives with my outstanding pronunciation and other articulate gestures! Viva La Espagnol and L'Italie!!

- Go through my French books periodically. Because after all I was the 1999-2002 University topper in the language with a wonderful score of 98%.

- Travel. With or without my backpack. But definitely with my kids who I hope will inherit their mother's sense of adventure.

-  Become an eco-warrior and make efforts to save water. Planet more trees and pick up garbage.

- To write more poetry. Because it was through the poetic word that I took my baby steps in the world of writing itself. And one should never forget where one came from.

- By 40, I hope that I would have learnt the art of mastering my emotions in a much more dignified manner.

- Learn. Learn more. Learn some more. Because knowledge is always waiting for someone to pick her up.


I think it's a fair list and hopefully I will be back in another 10 years' time to tick off all these off my list and to make a new one. As for my birthday, my 4 year old who is just learning to write, wrote the letters H and P on a white paper and said ' Happy Birthday mama' and kissed me tightly on my cheek. Now when you wake up to an angel's kiss in the morning, can it really it a bad day?

Love Happens. And is rightfully blind.

' The Green Room' is a book that will arrive at your favourite book-store soon. I have a feeling that the people who do end up spending money to buy the book will either be wannabe fashionistas, those who are keen to learn more about the fashion industry or those who are a fan of the author himself- Wendell Rodricks.

What if I told you that this book is probably one of the best love stories of our times, would you grab it then? Probably. What if I told you that the love story in question was that of Wendell Rodricks and Jerome Marrell, his partner of 30 years? Did I just hear you say you're not interested in love stories about gay people? Well, you're not alone.

The first time I heard the word 'gay' must have been when I was in school. But even back then, some adult warning prevented me from freely using this adjective  in school essays and in general conversation as well. I would never tell people I was gay, instead I would tell them that I was 'happy'. It's amazing how even as a child, you can form a prejudice about something, a word or about someone without fully understanding why. Years later, when I became a teenager, of course the very thought of being around gay or even slightly effeminate people was torture. 'I just don't like gay people' I would announce like as if anybody cared. But why was it that I did not like them was something I never bothered to reflect upon.

Till I realised with a pang that Elton John, one of my favourite musicians was gay. So was Ellen Degeneres, who I think has such an infectious smile and just sprays warmth and laughter wherever she goes. So was Neil Patrick Harris who plays the ever righteous Barney Stilson. Jodie Foster. Alan Cumming. Darren Hayes who gave the group Savage Garden some beautiful numbers. Ian McKellen, Adam Lambert (yes I was hoping he would win American Idol) and even Ricky Martin. Dare I forget George Michael, whose songs I grew up listening to. And the list goes on.

Yes, quite a few writers have made it to the list as well. Personalities like Oscar Wilde, E.M Forster and Samuel Butler are all rumoured to have been gay. But unless a person is strong enough to stand up in front of society and admit he or she is gay, we will never know for sure. These days, of course, admitting one's sexual preferences earns the admiration of a small number of people besides simultaneously earning the rejection of others too.

And then I sat down to understand why such a prejudice had stuck in my head for so long, without any reason at all. It had, of course, much to do with the general attitude towards gays within my family and friends circle, as well as a generous helping of brainwashing from general society itself. It's taken me years honestly to get over a fear that wasn't justified in the first place and a prejudice which should never have been born at all.

I've always wondered why society doesn't open its eyes a little more and let people who don't have the society approved sexual preference, in peace. I mean, we all admire so many gay people for their work but mention the word 'gay' and eyebrows are lifted within seconds. On the other hand, thanks to the inability of so many families to accept that their children are 'gay' and aren't faking it, many of these people get married to members of the opposite sex and have a marriage that is oh-so convenient from a society point of view, but disastrous for the two people involved. I remember reading books on AIDS, gay people, books that attempted to understand why some people are gay and some aren't, when I was in college. One of the best books that I came across was by Dr Verghese ' My Own Country' where readers get a first-hand experience of what it feels like to have a loved one die of AIDS. I remember reading that kids as young as 5 knew that something wasn't right with them, because they always felt an attraction towards older boys and not to other girls the same age. Society may say that whether you are gay, hetero or bisexual is a conscious choice that you make. But I think otherwise. Some may say I'm right and most will say I'm wrong.

I think that in a world where true love is getting rarer by the day, that Wendell and his partner have a beautiful relationship that should ideally be an example to people everywhere. Besides two men living and loving each other, theirs is a partnership which proves that love need not be confined to one's skin colour or even origin. For Wendell is Indian and Jerome is French. And I hope that for the sake of a new generation which I believe will grow to be more tolerant and respectful to people irrespective of who they are and where they are from, that 'The Green Room' becomes a classic love story on par with Romeo & Juliet. Because very few people are blessed to be touched by true love herself.