Featured

A Women in making..

ConfidencePF

A Women is a full circle in itself, with a power to create, nurture and transform.

Women…. A beautiful creature of the almighty.

Woman, is a being in making …. In a process, a struggle which begins from its coming into the universe before it emerges out of its mother’s womb. A process in making, to convince the world to let it live, to see the world.

In its making, the moment it sees the light of the world, face of the universe. A woman is in making when it suffers the neglected eyes of the other sex, eyes that wished she had died.

It’s the making of her self esteem, and her courage  when she fights with the world to get a chance to breath, a chance to live the way she wants, and a chance to get as much respect and love; the men of the house gets.

A woman is in a making when she dodges the prying eyes of strangers while she wishes to live the life to the fullest, when a kid in her comes out to dance in rain and walk with the wind.

Its the making of her limits and realm. A realm of her restricted area of dominance, an area of her sky beyond which her wings can’t fly.

A woman is in making when she is showered with, or rather imposed with thousands of rules and instructions when she need to step out.

A woman is in making, a making of her conscience and understanding of her self, her body and the troubles it gives; when she transforms into a different being for some time of the age every month, precursor of her evolution.

Its her making stage, when she cannot act herself, cannot wear herself and cannot live herself, lest those four people of the society would make stories. its the making of her cocoon in which she hides herself.

The cocoon which breaks when her saviour becomes her devourer  and its her making when she realizes every breath of her life is a struggle , a fight to live defeating the demons of the world.

its her making, when she has to step down from the ladder of her dream, cause she has forgotten the identity of herself, the identity of her being  a woman. To banish the coming success, and recognition  and worth ,when she is prepared to kill her self to become someone’s else.

Its a making of a woman when she dares to hand over her life to someone else, in an unfamiliar environment and between new people. A making of her confidence, courage and self respect. A making of her, looking at the world with a different perspective.

Its her making, making of her mortal body and spiritual soul, when she surrenders herself to steer ahead the evolution of the world, and endures the agony and pain which gives her the sweet happiness, to bring a life into the world.

A woman is a being in making, a making of balance, a making of life, a making of existence and making of survival on this earth.

A woman, is an unimaginable force of strength, courage and patience, a light of knowledge and hope and an inspiration to live.

A woman is God’s being, sent upon the earth to conquer the cruel world, with her kindness, warmth, love and strength ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Advertisements

The story of being Different

VCPhpnx

Some things comes naturally and effortlessly to me. But some things are like a struggle, as if to understand rocket science. Like for example why can’t people be good to others if they expect the same from them. From this, my journey of being the blue marble among the green ones, i.e always heading to an opposite direction to what the world is doing, begins.

I often wonder why am I so different from the rest of the people around me?( if you know me, you would agree) And the mind immediately slips in to the memory lane to check the foundation defect. So , it started from the time ( old phenomenon ) when I was a kid. Doing things entirely opposite to what my siblings did and considered ‘normal’ was my forte. Growing up with my first cousins was always fun and that was when I realized I am a bit different. No not, physically (by god’s grace) but in other terms. When my brother used to run in the playground for his evening cricket matches, while the rickshawwala came late( which was often) I sat on the basketball ground reading my book, rather than joining the other girls playing . When he came back from his play, all sweaty , happy and head full of things to tell me, I sat there listening to his endless events of the match, from the one who made the best runs, to the one who made him angry ( I understood nothing then and I understand nothing even today.) But I listened to all of his stories, I doubt if he told any of those to his mother. And then I realized I was not the one who would speak a lot but will to listen and that too with all attentiveness. a rare feat today ( I wonder today, why my primary school report cards have a consistent permanent line: very talkative, should take interest in sports.)

It did not end in school. When we came back from school, he still had energy to play, while I preferred sitting under the fan sprawled with my thin frock on, while he used to struggle with his mom to let him go out, and she struggled to feed him and make him do his homework. Of course he cajoled me to join him , but at that moment I instead sat beside the tape recorder kept on my mother’s side table, with my eyes closed listening to all sorts of new, old, religious, patriotic songs .( I still remember the bhajan that used to blare from that tape every day, which 9 year old does listen to bhajans rather than playing and loafing around with the toys, I still fail to understand).

So to continue, while I sat with my tape-recorder , my siblings ( here my elder sister makes an entry , we trio were supposed to make a team, which unfortunately did not happened as I was always a spoilsport in between , aloof and lost in my own thoughts) were busy counting the runs they had made. The only time I used to see the face of the next grass ground which they had occupied as their playground was to call them for the evening milk session, only to slip and get bitten by insects vowing never to go again. If by chance I tried my hand in scoring at least a fraction of a century runs , It became a laughter riot. I do not blame them because what I did for helping myself not getting out was pretty hilarious ( I am not at all telling you what!!)

Slowly I began realizing that there is an aura of difference around my head that always wanders my mind to not to do things people of my age and around normally do. While the other two sibling ( of our so called trio) fought for who would perform the aarti first in the temple, I stood there smiling and relaxed that I ‘ll do when my chance came. (I mean, why? I think that is why I have least competitiveness in me)

People say peer influence is the biggest influence. Guess what, I deceived myself in that also. Where in my class, my friends were busy gossiping about who said what, and who is dating whom, I was still lost in my own fantasy (I tried hard remembering what was that, but failed..) I was again a laughing stock when I realized after 2 years of leaving school that the girl I shared my bench with , was dating another of my friend since 5 years and I had no clue. ( Was I that dumb?)

When good students in our class were dying to choose science over maths, ( one because it was essentials for their image that good students need to take up science and secondly may be they wanted to be engineer/doctor or whatever. By image I mean real studious, teacher pet image, because when I opted otherwise [yes, I was a good student] people were rather surprised to see me in commerce section and explaining them my reason why I opted commerce against science took a whole month.)

Deciding upon a career was no different. Firstly, I chose that college which has the least people from my school, in fact I opted for an entirely obscure college , in anticipation of entirely new environment,( normally people like you carry their friends along) and for the profession I literally ran to the opposite road , which was taken by most of my classmates.( 75% of my classmates had decided to do CA and so then and there, I had decided ‘CA to nahi karna hai boss’.) Weird na?. What a stupid reason!

The story of profession does not end here, but If I go on, it will be toooo big. So in short I left my lucrative job and profession to pursue the minimal paying passion( this was also something less heard off, and of course endless questions, shocking expressions and explanation followed.)

Now, fast forward to today. I feel that air of being different attitude is still ingrained deep in my thoughts actions and habits. Where people prefer makeup and fancy clothes, I have least interest in those, It has been a year of my roommates humiliating me to wear fashionable clothes and getting all decked up before stepping out. But I am me, indifferent and careless. Where the closest of my girl friends are busy in applying all sorts of make up I stand there wondering whether am I really a girl , just like them? Why don’t I get excited as them to see new collections on displays and Sonam Kapoor’s new makeup trend as they do.?

When my ambitious friends go for high paying corporate jobs where they can enjoy a great working environment with various facilities, I prefer a small organisation with comfortable setting and at least airy work place ( I hate glass panned cubicle offices) ( ofcourse I have to compromise on the pay, but here also I don’t know why, but it does not bothers me.)

I am sure if this has been my story of being different, till now, it would definitely continue in the rest of my life as well ( you know what I mean!!) I have been wondering on its righteousness and I doubt if I will ever be successful.

Did I say I am different? 😉 See, who mocks themselves on a public platform?

Desires….

Desires are deadly , stealthily  creeping into your heart

Gnawing each part of your existence

Eating away slowly the bits of life

 

Desires are egotistical

Wanting and forcing itself to be fulfilled

Like waning the threads of soul

Swaying away the reason, arguments and defiance,

Overpowering the mind, making the heart cry.

 

Which desire am I talking about, you ask?

 

Desire of longingness, a sense of warmth and love

Desire to make good the bad done in world

Desire to reach the pinnacle of life against storms

Desires to shout out your existence loud

Desire to be you, being content and in view.

 

Desire is a half made love

It cannot be buried, it cannot be reminisced

until fulfilled It lays hidden dug deep in heart

Piercing away through the innocent  shreds

Desires kills you with its intense blow, bit by bit. Through the infinity

Desires is a fire, a flame burning, smouldering the soul with each breath..

 

You wish to die a slow death?

Have a desire!!

 

वो सुनहरी बचपन की यादें

जैसे ही मैं अपने उस स्कूल की सामने से गुज़रती हूँ एक यादों की बाढ़ सी आ जाती है मुझ पर  . जैसे की उन पुराने दिनों के सारे  पल मुझे सरोबर करने को बेत्ताब हैं . वो गुलमोहर का पेड़ आज भी वही खड़ा है तन के , ये बात अलग है की, , बच्चों के कितनी ही पीढ़ियों को झुलाते हुए कुछ टहनियां अब झुक सी गयी है. कितने ही फल बरसाया होगा उसने खुद ही, उन बच्चो के पत्थरों की चोट खा कर. आज वो लम्हा याद आ रहा है जब लंच ब्रेक में एक दुसरे पर उसके सुन्दर लाल फूल फेक कर हम खिलखिलाया करते थे. एक वो सुन्दर लाल फूल उड़ के सड़क किनारे गिरा हुआ था. उसे देख के लगा जैसे कल की ही तो बात थी. वो आज बेजान सा दिखने वाला बगीचा हमारी वो आधे घंटे की आज़ादी का गवाह होता था . जब हम उसके नर्म घास पर बैठ के जल्दी से अपना खाना ख़तम करने की जद्दोजहत करते हुए , एक दुसरे से अपना डब्बा ख़तम करने की मिन्नत करते थे ,घर पे डांट से बचना जो होता था . लुका छुपी खेलते हुए कब अगले क्लास की घंटी बज जाती पता ही नहीं चलता , फिर खामखा सजा के तौर पे क्लास में खड़ा रहना पड़ता था. वो रंगबिरंगे झूले, इतने सुन्दर नहीं हुआ करते थे उस वक़्त. नाही इतने तरह के होते थे, हम तो रंग खुरचे हुए उन फिसलपट्टी से झूल के ही खुश हो जाया करते थे, और बारिश के मौसम में उन पर चढ़ के पानी पर छपकने का अलग ही मज़ा होता था . आज वो झूले तो वही है पर वो एहसास शायद कही खो गया है . कुछ जाने पहचाने चेहरे नज़र आ  रहे है,  अभी दीवारों से चिपक के लगे ठेले  में . ये वही चुस्की वाले काका है , अब उनका ठेला शायद वो नटखट सा लड़का चलता है जो आशा भरी आँखों से हमें खेलते हुए देखता था,. पॉकेट मनी से बचाए हुए पैसो से अक्सर हम यहाँ चुस्की खाया करते थे , और वो काका ढेरों आर्शीवाद भी न जाने क्यू बरसा जाते थे हमपर . काका की आँखें आज कमज़ोर हो गयी हैं, पर वो प्यारी मुस्कान आज भी चुस्की खाने का निमंत्रण दे रही है मुझे .
आज शायद स्कूल की छुट्टी है जो गेट बंद था, वही गेट जिसके खुलने का हम बेसब्री से इंतज़ार करते, की कब वो खुले और हम अपने घरों की ओर भागे.

आज जी चाह रहा है ये गेट हमें अपने अन्दर ही कैद कर लेता . वो ज़िन्दगी सबसे खूबसूरत थी .
आज वो स्कूल पीछे छूट गया , वो दोस्त कही ग़ुम गए और ज़िन्दगी कितनी आगे बढ़ गयी है , पर आज भी इस स्कूल के सामने से गुज़रते हुए वक़्त वही ठहर जाता है और मैं फिर से बच्ची बन जाती हूँ, आजाद ,बेफिक्र और जिंदा ..

Service in profit- How Ola is changing the lives of auto wallas.

I generally do not converse with strangers (of course our safety instincts do not let us do that), but this time the traffic jam was too boring for me to keep quiet.  It was then that I realized; sometimes we come across people who are much more than they appear.

Often due to my language barrier, weak persuasion skill and ignorance about the routes, the rickshaw wallas used to charge more fare than it was. Either they took a different route or intentionally drove slower to accelerate the value of the meter. But I had no choice.

Using public transport and rickshaws for my basic transportation needs always, I never really relied on cab services like Ola or  Uber.  Firstly, because of their hefty fairs and above it, the ever surfacing crimes by the drivers. Though it is considered quite safe traveling in cabs, owing to the full tracking options, still the fear does not go away. In nutshell, it was rare that I hired cabs for my transit.

But then came the revolutionary service of Ola auto. Initially, I didn’t believe it too but gradually realized that it is after all auto itself and so can be worth trying. The satisfaction of riding in an auto backed up by the relief of not being forced to pay extra was my incentive I think.

So, I was to board my train to my hometown and  I had booked an ola auto which promised to charge only 29 RS. For distance till 4 km.

I always wondered how did the rickshaw wallas survive in such minimal amount and do they have any benefit from this offer. This ride answered all my questions.

Reluctantly  I started a conversation with this decent looking driver who was trying hard to maneuver through the traffic to help me reach the station on time.

“There is so much traffic here all over the city, how do you people manage on such stressful roads?” I asked him.  “No, it is not like that. It is very comfortable for me, I do not take rides to places where there is a lot of traffic, it hampers my ride calculation. If I get a ride then and there, its okay, otherwise I come back.”

“How does this 4 km offer help you?” I asked.

“It is very convenient, the company pays us well, apart from what customer pays, the balance money which should be there according to the general fare( meter value) is paid to us by the company. It is a win-win situation for all the three, the customer- he gets the ride cheap, the company-  they have got a tremendous shoot up in auto rides and for us, we get our due money, which in normal days varies drastically.

For every 30 rides in a day, we are paid 400 RS, daily over and above the amount the customer pays us. Rs. 150 for 10 rides, and so on. So if the customer pays us less, availing the various offers the cab company offers them, that loss which can we incur is paid by the cab company. So we have no problem in taking rides.”

“Are you happy?” I asked.

“Yes, I cannot ask for more.I love my work. I have been employed with Ola for 5 years now, I think I was the 2nd -3rd auto driver to be hired by them in this city. I have taken around 5000 rides with ola so far. The best part is they reward us well. I have received 2 gold coins also, for my service. The company is good.

I also enquired about the mobile phones these drivers had(I often wondered how do these people afford such expensive looking smartphones)

“They provide us phones for some time, till we can buy our own phone. Often they also pay half of the amount required to buy one. Though data pack is always provided by them free. I took a phone and data pack from them in the beginning.  The phone broke, they paid me half amount for the new one but I denied the data pack. I use Reliance  JIO now. I have a better phone too.”

I had a smile when I finished the ride. I often felt sympathetic for these rickshaw wallas, wondering that their life expenses were dependent upon our rides. But after this, I was really happy to know that in some or the other way, though for their own profits, the cab company is making a difference in such people’s life.

Karni Sena, You need to understand this.

When I was in high school, history was my favourite subject. I learnt great details about the country and the world. I could mug it up and secure full marks. It was so very simple. During that good golden days of the school, I read a chapter on Bajirao Pehswa , the great general of the Maratha empire.  Learnt, wrote in the exam and forgot. 10 years down the lane, today I had no clue what has this personality done for the country until  came the movie ‘ Bajirao Mastani, dedicated to the love story about Peshwa Bajirao and his muse Mastani.

Keeping aside the entertainment part, I really came to know about a very important part of the history I had no clue. Of course they were shown dancing and romancing on the screen, but  I feel that is quite obvious and necessary for a feature film. What I picked up was (and later read more about it) that he was the leader who never lost a battle. It is such an  important and indispensable part of Indian history . The box office minted gold and we hoarders of knowledge, a new pouch of information.

Now, fast forward to today and the whole fight and the controversy about the yet to be released Director Sanjay Leela Bhansali’s pet, the magnum opus ‘Padmavati’ . So if you  are still confused about this weird controversy, its more about a religious group ‘Karni sena trying to attract attention by remarking that this movie insults their great queen and it should not be released.  If I conform to the fact that there is freedom of expression given to the citizens by the country, it is not exactly wrong on the group’s part to actually appeal to stop the release of the movie. ( I mean I really does not completely abide by their arguments, but its ok, they have their reservations.) And on the other hand the filmmakers, too have the full right to use this freedom. But what exactly spins my head, wanting to slice their head off is the fact that they are warning the actor and Director with a death threat!. Ironically  a Director can be held responsible to a slight extent, but  why Actress Deepika padukon?? How silly is that!. Announcing to cut her nose off just because she seems to bring a disgrace to the Rajput’s family by playing the part of Rani Padmavati is ridiculously foolish.

How can a few  community who surfaces before the world  only once  just to protest about a movie that is  historically based, insult another woman in name of a fictional legend( I read somewhere  that rani Padmavati’s story is about she being a  character in some poem) they think they had  decades ago.  I respect their feelings(only if its really because,a historical story may have been  being tampered with) but disgracing another woman in public is seriously inhuman , I must say. The recent incident of a body found hanging on a tree with something inscribed on a stone nearby, related to Padmavati has made this whole scenario scarier and gross.

If stories are believed, Rani Padmavati committed Jauhar( self immolation) so that the other king Alauddin Khilji could not in any way have a control on her. Can the bravery of such a legendary queen be tarnished in any way by portraying her in the reel life dancing; that too so gracefully as the actress in the movie does? Has people lost their senses completely??

padmavati-deepika-padukone_650x400_71510843293.jpg

I never knew that we are the owner of such a honourable history. In a country where every other girl is molested, and she doesn’t  even has the guts to speak against it, there is this women who burnt herself alive so that she can save her honor, and this bunch of people feel that by portraying a part of her life on screen, can ruin the history… Wait What!!!

The best part, the so-called-history-saviours wants the nose and head of the beautiful lead actress, and none of them, I repeat none of them has even mentioned for the hands and limbs or even a hair of the other two important actors of the movie. WHY ?? will their image won’t be tarnished? Or they are not so important part of the Indian history to be said otherwise.

A lot of effort, hard work, sleepless nights, struggle and thought process goes behind such magnanimous piece of art. And coming in its way like this is utterly unfair.

It’s easy to point fingers on someone you think is wrong and does not act as per you. Its easy to blame someone just because you are bored and want some limelight. But it’s not at all cool to insult someone or promise thousands of rupees to freak out a woman and create such a ruckus just for a movie made for entertainment purpose , which may turn out be an informative piece for the audience.

 

He is the one….

A lot of things have been spoken about women, their rights, their freedom and atrocities against them. Interestingly what is not spoken is the unsaid feelings men have while they silently walk behind the women.

This is a small poem for all those men who step behind to give way for women, smiling and willingly …..

He was one of those men who was believed to be something he was not.
He was one of those men who proved her that it was love and not lust that he had, but fail to express it.
He was one of those men, who provided his shoulder in her grief, when she was too weak to resist the love.
He was one of those men, who had her soul and knew her mind but could not win her heart.
He was one of those men who knew her dreams and aspirations, her likes and dislikes, her life and rights, but could not remain in her sight.
He was one of those who often slept with her worries around, searching a solution, while she was busy giggling to cheesy praises.
He was one of those men who had a heart of gold, mind, you would want to owe, but not with a bank balance which would cross crore.
He was one of those men who may not walk with her lest she think otherwise, but would always stay a step behind to support her lest she falls.
He is one of those men whose love was not seen as it was, coz someone’s lust won the race.
He is one of those men who were tagged the bad ones, as few others loved to achieve that badass tag along.
He is one of those men, who was like a pearl hidden somewhere behind the stones deep in the sea, but she is too busy to find it,
Running behind the cheap sea shells that soon loses its shine.
He was one of those men whose hand got pricked while picking up a rose for her, and the rose was crushed amongst the diamonds.
He is one of those who spoke a little and cared a ton, but she was too careless to notice
He was one of those men whose love was crushed, Because he became too much a friend unfortunately .
He is one of those thousand men who stay behind like a shadow, disappearing as soon as her life gets illuminated.

He is that man, your friendzoned one….

I cannot come up with any title for this — May be Pursuit of Happiness..

In a profession I am in, it is necessary that I write something every day and  post and update my walls. But the problem  I face is, I can’t get hold of the topic or subject I should write upon . It has been a long time, since  I have written something good, and today I want to break that break.  That too without a topic, about something which would ultimately wave back to my favourite topic, finding happiness.

I am stuck up in office. I am using the word stuck because I have been given a work which I have no clue, as to how will I complete it, moreover its terribly boring . This job is something I love to do though not the assignment I am assigned with . I have a flair for writing and I don’t know but somewhere out of the blue, against everything else I do , I feel a lot of satisfaction and happiness when I write something. That is really valuable than money, the  6 figure bank balance.

I know, people do sometimes consider me as naive  or stupid if I say that money is not be- all and end- all of everything . They do feel that I don’t know how much is money important in life. They think I am being ignorant of the world’s facts, the society’s ways. May be yes. May be I am relaxed and unconcerned with the money I am earning because of the several support I am enjoying currently . May be I won’t be so relieved and fearless, when I have to fend myself alone . But I believe I will be still happy . I believe that, that extra money which I may earn by doing something I am not happy in, or doing that does not creatively satisfies me , may not give me my peace of mind and satisfaction as that  other work would do.

I know I write the same things again and again, as if  like reminding myself  the same thing or may be its like reminding others that its ok if you are not earning like your peers or you are not a corporate giant. What important is what you  are , what you want to do and what you think will give you happiness. I have always seen people go behind the nerd mentality and that too desperately. I still fail to understand why.  I have and will always try to go against the crowd. Though I am very sure I will make my self very proud one day, I will fulfil all my dreams and I will become what I wish for sooner or later, but yet if, god forbid I am unable to do so, I get unable to earn like my peers by their profession( which they like or not ) I am confident I will be much happier, may be not richer. I will be listening to my heart and not my mind. Will bow before my happiness and not my pocket.

Though I still wait for ‘that’ perfect moment and ‘that’ right moment, I try my best to live my life fully in the moment , because I know that life is one and I have to do a lot of things in that single one. I know that I cannot and should waste my youth in doing things I can do all my life. I know I am a little conservative, little orthodox and little being full of constraints and limits for myself, but I think that is something I am working hard upon.

I come from a superbly defined family. Definite in values and goodness, in virtues and randomness, love and happiness. But what they have given me in abundance is good soul, a good heart and yes lots of support.

Lastly I may  be contended and satisfied by how my life is going on presently, may be that will be a little roadblock in my further life, because I get too optimistic sometimes, already happy and grateful for what I have . But I know that gratitude has helped me evolve in a better person I am today, to ignore the bad experiences and bad events happening, like a  passing stone on a road. It has helped me be a happier person, making my life  happier.

I do not know why did I write and also post these things, but the one thing I know is that it has given mw creative satisfaction. I hope you know  what  I mean …