Why all boys MUST have girlfriends

The scientist who pitched men and women under the same species homosapiens certainly had a lot more to learn. Even biology wouldn't have imagined how messed up this world was going to be when it decided to grant the different sexes with different hormones. And hence, different feelings and different thought processes. Feelings and thought processes is what this particular blog post is all about.

From keen observations I can derive a theory which all girls are most likely to agree with and most boys, silly as they are, would scoff at.

Theory# Girlfriends are the catalysts that help boys graduate to being men.

All those who are smirking/ laughing/ giggling and wondering if I have lost my mind need to stop thinking dirty to be able to understand the profound nature of this theory.

Boys by nature don't have to act cool because they mostly are. I used to find the effortless cool and nonchalance of men charming before I bore witness to the foolishness which camouflaged itself as the chilled out behaviour. I used to believe that all boys are programmed to act at least a bit chivalrous when they are out with girls. Forget chivalry, that's too strong a word. You can say they act superior by nature when they become all protective of the fairer sex in their company by leading the way, walking on the side facing the traffic, bossing around the waiter, insisting to pay, waiting outside the powder room and so many other cliché gestures. The reasons for this behaviour can be ego - boost, show-off, 'setting an impression' (I love this phrase! :P) or genuine chivalry (the chances of which are minimum as this quality became endangered, if not extinct with the princes of the past). I have had the pleasure of being treated like a princess many times and though it can get slightly irritating at times (when I'm in a feminist mood), it is mostly charming. 

Therefore it was a rude shock for me when I recently discovered in an appalling manner that this sudden burst of superiority (or whatever you might want to call it) is peculiar to boys who have had the presence of females in their lives as more than mother or sisters. Boys, who for whatever reason stuck to singledom missed out on some basic manners to be practiced around girls. Like giving more attention to them than to food and by attention I mean talking to them, and not their..err.. other body parts. Remembering that humour is good only till it doesn't convert into snide, rude and embarrassing comments. And similar things.

This epiphany struck me when I went to a temple with a group of friends. The girls and boys got separated during the security check and while the girls were going berserk looking for the boys (mobile phone were not allowed in the premises. How stupid!), the boys were busy filling their tummies in the food court. What is more, as the evening was winding down, the girls wanted to reach home in time (parents, I tell you! Well, they deserve another blog post), the boys wanted to go bowling (after a very late and heavy lunch, imagine!). So we girls who were still offended by the ruthless behaviour shown by the boys decided to play the non - chalant card, acted as if we could manage to go back home alone, wished the boys fun for the rest of the evening and stalked off, not sparing them a backward glance. Well, of course we were sure that they would come running behind us offering to drop us home as it was late and dark and none of us were very sure of the way back home and the city is no longer a safe place for young girls to venture alone in (Excuse the dramatics, at that moment, it did pose a BIG problem, I mean the newspapers are full of gory stories, but that again is worth another blog post). But it did not happen! The boys surprised us again. Hence, 7 girls fit themselves into one car and drove around speculating about the correct way back home, cursing the boys for their insensitivity. That is when it hit home. That had we even a single couple amongst us, the day would have had a happy ending. Granted that the boys apologized later (much later!) and girls, as is in their nature, did not make much of an effort to understand the boys' side of the story. But what's use of hitting the iron when it has cooled down already?

Infact, it is rather easy to tell which guy has had a girlfriend at some point of his life. Girls bring out the best in men which stays with them even if the girl doesn't. Hence, to help boys grow into men (I hope NOW you understand the deeper meaning behind this statement, dirty minds!), and not hesitant, insensitive, crude jokers, a girlfriend is a necessity. So girls, be smug; guys, think about it and give some credit to the fairer sex and forever single guys, do yourself a favour. Find a girlfriend.  

A Hard - Bound world

(Or paperback if you prefer it that way)

 I am not easily influenced as a general rule. I maybe silent, but that doesn't mean that you have managed to convince me. But there is something to whose influence I involuntarily succumb. It has the power to alter my mood. I don't even realize when it starts working its magic and its astonishing power creeps up on me and has a blanket effect which is hard to fight. That something is books. 

My last book (Room by Emma Donaghue) was a simulating read. I was forcing myself to read it slowly to savour it for a long time as I did not have any other book to devour after I was through with it. But when I realised that it was clouding my head with depressing thoughts I quickly finished it (partially also because the plot caught up with me. It was hard to put it down after that). That is why I prefer to alternate genres after each book I read. But because I am facing a dearth of good books these days (I miss days when people suggested books by authors other than Chetan Bhagat), I am re-reading my little collection for the umpteenth time. But I often end up avoiding my favourite one, Khaled Hosseini's A Thousand Splendid Suns. It is a beautiful composition because for me it flows like a perfect melody making the reader feel a rainbow of emotions. But people complain that it brings out the feminist in me. But apart from that I get too sentimental and the vulnerability bothers me. 

So I generally find myself re- reading the Twilight series. It brings a smile to my face, a spring to my step and I can smell the romance in the air. It is not because of the author's expertise. Far from it. It is just because I have a crush on a character (which girl won't actually. Edward is every woman's prince charming despite him being a vampire). I rarely get into a bad mood when I'm reading that series and I guess that's the reason why I have read twilight over 20 times and conveniently skip the second book in the series where Edward is absent for the most part. 

But let me clarify that romance is not my genre. Thank goodness my mother brought me Enid Blyton books to read rather than Nancy Drew. I have a theory about those. Girls who read Nancy Drew advance to Mills & Boons later. From Enid Blyton’s kiddy novels I progressed to Famous Five mysteries. But somehow, I never read too many thrillers (enough, but not too many) or mysteries and even now I'll choose a nice emotional story over a pacy thriller. I suppose my Ma is the reason behind this sub conscience preference. I was very young and an avid reader. Being a teacher, my Ma got me books from the school library so I read books of her choice. That is why most of the books I have read are emotional and have a complex story line which is hard to describe in one line.

 

Many books have had me sobbing uncontrollably (like Cecilia Ahern's P.S. I Love You, an exceptional romance in my favourite books list),  made me live in a world of fantasy (like J. K. Rowling's brainchild), altered my attitude towards the world around me (Harper Lee's To Kill a Mockingbird, Gregory David Robert's Shantaram), made me more sensitive to others (Sorayya Khan's Noor, Arthur Golden's Memoirs of a Geisha) and had me in splits (Jerome K. Jerome's Three men in a boat). Books have changed the way I see the world. 

They have given me sweet dreams and nightmare. They have made me the person I am today. I might have read hundreds of thousands of books. Thanks to my rather poor memory, I forget stories and then re – read and re – re – read books again and again! For those who might raise an eyebrow at my choosing books over partying, or are bored of the monotony in their life, try losing yourself in someone else’s world…

Strong women, really?

My new workplace although cordial and interesting and at times fun (in case the boss is reading :P) is located in a terrible area. My hopes of beautiful big glass covered concrete structures, spanky canteens with vending machines and exhaustive menus, parking lots full of shiny expensive cars, rubbing shoulders with suited booted people and dreams of wearing smart heels to work came crashing around me the day I went for the interview. Being the wise (and tolerant) girl that I am, I concentrated on the things that mattered and I liked them.

It has been a month now but still the worst part of my day is going to and coming back from work. Today, after exiting the office premises I was walking down the road looking for an auto, with my eyes on the road watching out for pits, cow- shit, stones, dogs, banana or egg peels which could sprain or fracture me or worse, when a white car came to a halt a foot away from my feet. I looked up expecting (and hoping for) someone known thoughtfully offering me a ride. Instead a strange man, not much older than my father, with bloodshot eyes and pan masala  in his mouth was behind the wheel. As my eyes met his he shut his one eye forcefully, which I realized was a very crude attempt at winking. He then jerked his head to the left; an unmistakable gesture which meant “chalti – kya”. I was filled with disgust and a strong need of hurling something at that @$$#0[& shook me. I clenched my fists and the gritting of my teeth became painfully audible. I forced myself to look away and staked off trying hard to suppress the waves of anger which hit me afresh each time man in the white car blew the horn while driving slowly beside me. After a few failed attempts of catching my attention, he sped away. I took a couple of deep breaths (they always work for me). Almost instantly the rage and hatred were replaced by an even worse sensation. Fear. Suddenly, I was sharply aware of my surroundings. 

My heart was beating about a frenzy in the ribcage. I eyed every passing vehicle suspiciously, took unnecessary detours to avoid doubtful looking men. Just a couple of minutes had gone by when a motorbike overtook me, slowed down and then stopped at the side of the road. I was surprised at my own reaction when skipping the anger my mind fast – forwarded to the fear stage. A cold shiver ran down my spine. I had goose-bumps all over. My breathing was ragged, eyes wide and throat dry. I realized I had stopped walking and was staring at the man while clutching my bag protectively to my chest. The man was staring back. Ten seconds later a woman crossed the road, both the men and the woman sat on the bike and it zoomed away. Feeling utterly stupid I hailed the auto and began counting my breaths to calm myself.

If it sounds too dramatic, then imagine going through this torture every other day. And no, I am not complaining about the area around my office. It happens everywhere. From the slum areas to the poshest localities, most independent, strong willed women can’t help feeling vulnerable in such situations. Sadly, there is nothing which can be done to change how we feel about it: angry, disgusted, fearful; unless the lechers start feeling shame and respect for women.

K

Can't wait no more

A sad poem I penned down during a low phase. Re-read it after a long time. Even I was surprised to find that I ended it on a sad note. Sometimes a sad end is best for a better beginning...

I've been waiting, as you asked me to,

but for how long?

I've been looking for a happy ending

to my love song.

But the memories, even the happy ones,

don't suffice,

How will, without you,

I go on.

I'm fighting a war with time,

for too long.

I'm too weak to make it move faster,

it's too strong.

Time crawls, I count seconds,

the wait never seems to end.

I told everyone you'd come for me,

don't make me go wrong.

Last night, in my dream,

you came along.

I'm worried, and scared,

I won't last long.

Your memories in my dreams,

have blurred now.

You're slipping away and

I can't hold on...

DIY

Sitting alone at McDonald’s I was satisfying my craving for junk food and sipping my iced tea. My eyes were glued to a book I was supposed to be reading for an office assignment (‘Profit at the Bottom of the Pyramid’, no offence to CK Prahlad, but don’t even try to read it unless you aren’t forced to!). The girl sitting on the adjacent bar stool took a last sip of her coffee, carefully dabbed her lips with a tissue, picked up her expensive though ridiculous looking tote and walked off. As a knee – jerk reaction called behind her, “Hey, you forgot to pick up your tray!” For my uninvited comment she gave me a dirty look, a shrug of her shoulder and stalked off.

NOTE: For those who find it difficult to comprehend the purpose of my reflex action, allow me to explain. McDonald’s is a self – serve fast food joint. According to their protocol, you place the order at the counter, pick up your tray and when you are done, you trash the leftovers in the bin and stack up your tray your self. 'Your self' being the important words here.

Not a very complex exercise, right? Wrong. We all like the self serve restaurants but we seem to have a problem with their ‘do – it – yourself’ policy.  And everyone seems to know that. Why else did the worker at the joint not make a face picking up that woman’s tray of leftovers and dunking it in the bin? Why else do most self – serve joints recruit people for picking up used trays of food?

Granted, India is country which gave us history books full of royalty, but isn’t it a bit snobbish to think that we might still have a bit of blue blood in us? At another instance I was enjoying a Sunday brunch at a friend’s place. As lunch was served, my friend said one word at least a dozen times. No it wasn’t praise for the food. It was ‘Sheila’. And this time it wasn’t ‘Sheila ki Jawani’ that I was amazed at, but her agility and patience. Sheila is his maid. (Pardon me for that poor attempt at joking but I just couldn’t miss the opportunity: P)

Do we consider ourselves so high up in the society that it feels derogatory to pick up our used utensils? When I asked my friend, he confessed that it isn’t being snobbish or used to the royal treatment, it is just being lazy. Perhaps India is the only country where small time entrepreneurs thrive by making working and non working models and charts and science projects for students. I am also rather sure that not many countries can boast of a system where washing clothes, cutting vegetables, cleaning cars, even filling all sorts of forms are means of earning a livelihood. Of course this snobbish behavior or laziness contributes to the Indian economy and employment scene. But if you were expecting a political blog, you have the wrong link.

Whatever may be the excuse behind not grasping the meaning of ‘do – it – yourself’, this behavior is unacceptable and demeaning to those who finish those menial jobs for you. But if the message still fails to sink in, an advice: next time avoid self service joints. That will save you the lecture and dirty looks from at least a couple of people.

Cold regards

A pissed me! 

Not so ordinary

Flipping through my Blackberry's camera album, I found a lot of interesting pictures. Most of them clicked by me and a few sent by friends. These photographs stand out in my camera album and I would like to share them with all of you.

I am personally attached to most of these pictures because of the memories associated with them. Few of these are for laughs. But all of these are unusual.

I hope you enjoy going through them as much as I enjoyed clicking/ collecting them.

1) View from QBA, late evening. I had not been able to enjoy the view because of the most serious conversation I was engaged in. Lucky i clicked a picture. Reminds me of the place, the person and the conversation.

2) Sunset at a beach in Dubai. Picture courtesy a thoughtful friend.

3) Who said weddings are all fun for the bride?

4) Cleaning my shoe rack

5) A swimming pool in Andaman islands. Courtesy a friend on her honeymoon.

6) Delhi metro is bothered about ladies, kids, old and handicapped citizens and the unmarried!

7) Glitches in the metro. The driver got confused whether the metro was bound for Noida or Anand Vihar. The train stopped somewhere mid - tracks after Yamuna Bank station and the digital guiders were a huge help, as can be seen below. The passengers were stuck inside for a good 20 minutes.

8) Anand Vihar ISBT from Anand Vihar Metro station. Quite a sight at night.

9) "Katti" My angry niece.

10) View from the Gurgaon 'Pahadi'. A romantic date *blush*

11) Someone has to water the roadside plants! :P

12) My first boarding pass! An official trip to Mumbai. Yes, I first traveled in an airplane at an embarrassing age of 21!

13) A memorable picture from my first flight

14) Queen's necklace road. Catching up with a bestie at 2 AM on Marine Drive. Bliss!

15) First time on the Worli Sea - Link! Felt super proud!

16) Cat in a Sikkim Monastry

16) Pink Ambassador

17) Sunset at Juhu.

18) My favourite stretch in the metro line. Between IP and Yamuna bank.

19) This little attention seeker was boldly attacking people. Maybe had a personal vendetta against Zee News Ltd. :P Scared a lot of employees. Mind you, the yellow beak really was as mean as it looks.

20) Getting dolled - up for a shoot. It is the most boring job in the world.

21) Shoe bite after long hours on an out door shoot. 

22) Catching the 6 AM Metro from Model Town. Also catching the pretty morning sun.

23) Bwahahahaha! This one had me splits. Again, only in Delhi Metro.

24) Voyeurs at work. Photo courtesy a friend in a mean mood! 

 

25) Pirated book. Decent read. Recommended by many, read by few.

26) First time on the Vaishali metro skywalk.

27) An artist's impression of me. Or should I say a BAD artist's impression of me. Go Die!

28) 8 legged free travelers in the Delhi Metro.

29) The picture speaks for itself.

30) 2AM Maggi. Cooked in a fit of hunger. Never finish. Lesson learnt, late night hunger pangs can be false alarms. Don't bother.

31) A different pea in the pod. A very pretty green.

32) Ganne ka ras!! Adrak aur pudina ke sath! Yummm!! Voted best summer beverage!

33) Oi! makki di roti te sarson da saag! Khao gur naal taan khul jaave bhaag! wah wah!

34) Macchar bhagao drive in the area. Don't know about the mosquitoes, everyone else had to run away.

35) A particularly shaukeen auto wallah's installation in his ride. Reminded me of Sanjay Leela Bhansali's Saawariya. 

36) Mera bharat mahan! 

37) View form my office's top floor. 

Things around us will appear more beautiful, unusual and unique if we just take out a minute to actually 'see' them. If you have a fancy phone, make good use of the camera and make memories more memorable!