The December Story - Of cold nights and colder mornings

They'd known each other for over ten years. First as friends, then best friends and then, more than just friends. In the years they spent together, she fell in love. There was no one moment that could be pinpointed as - yes, that's when she fell in love. It was slow, gradual and once in a life time love. Their friendship was a gradual progression, from friends who hang out, catch movies to friends who hang out, catch movies and share intimacies together. It was never questioned. Love was never said aloud. It was natural. No promises. no stereotypical definitions. Just two friends, one in love, one not.

Then he moved away. It was new. Not being present in person. They never knew how to talk, in person or over the internet. Their love was quiet, silent and brooding. It was never said aloud. With oceans separating them, she knew it was trouble. Yet, she had faith. She had given him the best years of her life, supported him and loved him through thick and thin. She knew his worst secrets and still loved him. He treated her shabbily, forgot to call her when he promised. She waited still, for she knew, his life was demanding, he was famous. Everyone wanted a piece of him.

It wasn't like they hadn't slept together. They had, for she could never refuse him. That was her love, naivety sure, but love was most of it.  With him gone, she knew no other way to bond with him. Their relationship was based on those little fleeting touches, the forbidden moments stolen in his room, the quiet coffee around the corner. He was her best friend. She knew she could tell him anything. She'd never be judged. Together they had faced life changing problems, together, they had survived a heart wrenching decision. He knew her inside and out.

Yet, there were no words. No love said out loud, no need described. Words ran thin, deep and unsaid.
She knew then, he never loved her. But yet she did anyway. She thought the world of him. He was her Superman. But she knew, he didn't love her, and yet, she never stopped loving him.

Then one cold night, his sunny day, they spoke about their carnal needs. He asked for something. she answered in kind, yet another unspoken agreement. Internet, the evil magician, it brought them closer and yet pushed them further apart. The ups and downs, they survived, were there no longer. The road was smooth and straight till the eyes could see. They had a pattern, an unspoken pact agreed upon. They had found a middle road.

Then one December morning, she woke up thinking of him, needing him. And she asked for it. For her world was only lit by him, she wanted no other. And that turned her life upside down. Women never ask for it. Women, not in a clear relationship, never ask for it. Women never fall in love. Women fall in love but, never ever ask for it. She asked for it. Worst yet, she asked for it, from him, they were oceans apart.

And bang!! He shunned her. She said it out loud, broke their unspoken pact. She said the words. She deserved to be punished. She knew he wouldn't tell the world. Her dignity was still safe. But he despised her, for her, the entire world eluded her. Why? Because she asked. She broke a promise, an unsaid promise, but a promise indeed. She lay there, crying, for she knew, a piece of her heart was lost forever..

She smiled for the world, but her heart lay in pieces, for he shut her out. She knew no way in. She knew no way away. All she did was lay there and cry, for her quiet, silent and brooding love. For it may have been quiet, shy and brooding, but it was her love, the only kind of love she ever knew...



  

 

Is India becoming an intolerent counrty??

Last few days we've seen a number of attacks against North-east Indians. A North-east INDIAN got beat up in Bangalore because he couldn't speak in Kannada. I love Bangalore but do I really want to go there now? That boy and I have a lot in common, he's Indian, so am I. He knows no Kannada, neither do I. But yet, we lived in the city for so long and loved it too. In a different incident, a couple of north-east INDIAN boys got beat up for not drinking with the locals. Really? Isn't drinking - not drinking a personal choice anymore?

Why have the north-east Indians been treated so differently then the rest of us? Because they look different or because they can't speak the local language? Just because the thumb stands out from the rest of the fingers doesn't make it any less important. It still is a part of the hand, and a very important part I say.

People from the North-east are often treated in a step-sibling like manner. Yet, when Mary Kom wins a medal, we never fail to take credit for it as a country. When Tea from Assam is appreciated all over the world, we swell with pride. The seven sister states offer some of the most spectacular sights in the country, yet how many of us travelled to those states? Why is there a need for a special passport-like document for the Indians residing there?

These states and the people there are as much Indians as the rest of us. The South Indians look different than the North Indians and the Guajaratis don't look the same as Bengalis, but we are still Indians. If looks and languages were the factors that decided one's Indian-ness, India could not have survived as the world's largest democracy for as long as it has. What makes India special is the vast bouquet of cultures, languages and people it offers.

India is not an intolerant country. We shall not let it be an intolerant country. When I say, "All Indians are my brothers and sisters"  I mean it. North Indians, South Indians, North-east Indians and Central Indians are all INDIANS first.

Next time, a North-east Indian is attacked or ridiculed for the way he/she looks or speaks or the State he/she belongs to, keep in mind, he/she is one of you, an Indian. And there's no saying for sure we will be spared from the ridicule for there will always be differences. And if we don't stand up for them, any idea if there'll be anyone left to stand up for us?

The October Story - Why aren't you here yet?

This feels weird, writing on my blog after such a long time. I've been using incrediblezee as a means to pen down random ideas and incidents. But my last blog post made me want to write stories, short ones that make you think about everyday things that don't get a second thought, about everyday people that we look through. And I wrote nine little stories, one for each month. The October story changed my outlook. Here's why.

I'm in the process of applying to B-Schools. I've been writing essays about myself, telling complete strangers why I'm the person they need. That's when I realized, what about me? I do the same things day after day without another thought, I'm the person I look at, and yet look through every single day.

Here I'm, thinking about quitting work while at work, to go back to studying business at one of the most prestigious schools. Here I'm, thinking about studying finance and entrepreneurship while staring at my Law books. But is that really what I want? What I need?

I bared my heart out to complete strangers, laid detailed plans of what I want to do, where I want to be in 10years. I wrote thousands of words laying down everything I've done in my life so far. But is that simply how I'm going to be judged? Will my essays be enough to describe me? How many words before they can pin down the exact person that I am?

I'm more than just a girl, an employee, a teacher or an accountant. I'm a lot more than the numbers on my mark-sheets. But will I be given the opportunity to show my true self? I truly don't know.

The wait is killing me. Everyday, I wake up to my emails, checking every few minutes for that one particular email. My desperation, no, obsession for it has made me realize something. While I was writing the essays, I wasn't so convinced about what I wanted. But with each passing day, I've understood something. This is what I need.

And it sucks to know that all I can do is wait, wait to hear something from the University. Something, anything that says I'm wanted there, that I deserve to be there. Because, while I go through life's motions every day, this isn't me. I want to be there. And I've done all I can do, so now, I wait.

Getting back to the beginning, will I get my tenth story? Or will I have to stop at the ninth? Because my October story is in one of the classrooms on the other side of the world. And I can't wait to begin...



 

A Relationship - Undefined

Almost everybody today, has that one person they're madly in love with, that one person they give their all. And that one person who never returns in kind. It's the new type of relationship. One that has no definition. But does it make it any less of a love than others? No, let's read why.

Our girl is Esha, and that one person in her life was Niketan. They'd been friends for over five years. For Esha, more than just friends ever since she could remember. Best friends they were. The world thought, no guy and a girl can be only friends, not like them at least! They had no common friends. And yet, week after week they hung out, never bored in the other's company. Movies and bowling and cafes, they never ran out of things to talk and to do.

Niketan was her world, bright and shiny. And she, his Google. He was her car expert, she, his navigator. He was her hero, she, his only link to the serious world. She relied on his experience, he on her knowledge. Together, they explored all that there is to growing up, good things and bad. Their first ice candy in the rain, that bhutta by the lake, that first ciggie and the bottle of beer. He led her into this world of wonder, with patience and care.

But things change. Yes, never can a girl and a guy be just friends. Try as one may, it never really works. Slowly but gradually, their friendship was more than just platonic. One kiss led to another and then some more. They grew up. He had an awesome job, she still trying to get her grip on hers. Yet, they remained constant. But can one truly beat the change?

Not so easy. New people, new  joys bring new problems. Esha thought, he's there for her always, then why push for a commitment. So she never did. But then, he was there less and less, yet she stood her ground, her faith in him rock solid. She couldn't see it, still shrouded in a cloud of joy over simply being his. Was he thinking the same? Did Niketan think of her as often as she thought of him? Their daily adventures turned weekly, then monthly. He wasn't there for her anymore. She'd crib and fight and argue, pushing him further away.

One day, she stopped, no more drama she decided. I'll be there for him, no matter what. I'll accept all that he has to give. I'll give him my all, still, and then he'll realize he loves me and needs me too.

Did he?

The truth is, relationships that have no clear definition don't always work. They usually end in a massacre of emotions and feelings for one of the two. It need not always be the girl, the roles can be reversed. But the end is almost always the same. Heartbreak and loss of direction. Incompleteness and fear.

But do you know what's the worst thing from it all? The inability to share the grief with anybody, even the close friends. Relationships that lack definition are considered taboo. Almost all the friends and family, would tell you against it if they knew. So, you never tell them. And when it's over, you have no one. Because that one person who knew it all, is the one who walked away.

So, how do we get over it? We hope, we live, and we believe, that someday, things will be different, that someday, we will be the person who is loved and adored. And that day, is the beginning of a happily ever after. So, we believe.



*Esha and Niketan are real people, different names.

Delhi Gangrape Case - Will we ever feel safe again?

And then, she dies. End of story. No amount of black dots and candle light marches, or protests and boycotts is going to change the fact, that she dies, alone, hurt and in pain, in a strange hospital bed, away from home. And the ones who did that to her, will live, scot free. Sonia Gandhi says, there shall be justice. When? Decades later, when the ones who did this heinous crime are old and have lived their life already? When they are tired of working and would be happy to have help in terms of food and residence (and free security, that's the highlight of it!) (Read: Jail). Decades of course, since the victim wasn't a Priyanka Gandhi!

We live in a country that's a Democracy ruled by an Empress Regnant, where bureaucracy has a vice-like hold on every phase of life. Where, the lawful heads of the country are just for namesake. Where the political game-playing makes it the deadliest sport.

Yes, I'm proud to be an Indian, but am I proud to live in India? NO!! I don't feel safe here.

Every step I take away from home, takes me closer to the dangers lurking in the dark.  Every time the rickshawalla looks at me, I wonder what he's thinking about. Every time I walk alone from work, I wonder if somebody is following me. Every time I see a boy with a bottle, I wonder if there's going to be an acid attack. Every time I take a bus, I wonder if the driver/conductor is the same criminal with a different face. Every time I step out of the house, I wonder if I'll be back home, safe..

It's not the  clothes we girls wear, but the morals or the lack of it, amongst the men. We live in an oppressive society. It's the thinking that's been drilled into them and us, that women are beneath them. Our life is not as valuable as theirs. As mothers, daughters, sisters and wives; we're always beneath the fathers, sons, brothers and husbands.

If only, the mothers of these murderers had taught them the right things. If only, the wives hadn't accepted their murderer-husbands' torture as a fate dealt to them by life. Or just maybe, they didn't have any mothers, daughters, sisters and wives, a family, because, a man with a family would surely have a heart. And no man with a heart could do something so terrible.

She died. She wasn't supposed to, not yet.
She died. A death that wasn't meant for her.
She died. And there' nothing we can do to change that.

Putting the rapists/murderers in jail or hanging them to death will not stop another one of us from dying a similar death. But it'll be a start. A start to end this horrible disease that's taken hold of our society.

CHANGE!! It's what we need, to survive, in this brutal world.

Love / Friendship minus The 5 senses

They say, Love at first sight. But can Love happen beyond the 5 senses? Not necessarily the romantic kind of Love. But the purely platonic, " I'll always be here for you " way? Can a friendship blossom between strangers who have never met, and may never meet either? Can just Social Networking Sites be a stronghold for a growing friendship?

I came across him on one such website. It was a childhood picture that started it for us. Facebook messages moved on to become text messages. That was followed by Whatsapp and then, BB Messenger, with phone calls, letters and little gifts sprinkled in between.  So, I've known him for over 4years. Told him my deepest secrets, my most embarrassing moments or just the little things that happened to me during the day. Listened to the things he had to say, survived the times when he pulled my leg or tried to kill me by simply making me laugh. We trusted each other, totally. May be it was the fact that we had no common person/s and a few hundred kilometres that separated us, but it helped. We never fought, argued a little may be, but that's about it. He became my 3 AM friend, MY PERSON. I like to believe I managed to become his person too. (It would be embarrassing to know I wasn't, especially after such a public "announcement" :P )

But like any regular pair of friends, we've had our ups and downs. Times when we didn't speak for weeks together or days when we exchanged over a thousand messages back to back. But we went with the flow and surfed through the waves. Obviously, I know there's going to be a time when it might not be the same. Time and distance that separates us today may bring us together or take us further away, he's always going to be my special friend. Always!

So yeah, back to my questions from above. Is it really possible to care so much about a person you haven't met? I think so. I totally do. Talking to him makes me smile. He's one person who can make sense out of the gibberish that I talk. And yes, I haven't met him. Though I hope, that if we ever bump into each other, we can still be the same, crazy and psychotic pair that we are.

I love him, in a purely platonic way that is, before you can get any funny ideas. :P I'm sure when (and if) he reads this, he's going to know I'm talking about him and he'll go all "Ewww!! Such happy-gooey stuff this is!" And that's the reaction that'll truly make it worth it!

For my handsome-est Biwii! XoXo
Love, Zee!

 

Mumbai!!

How I love Mumbai!! It's so alive!! Always!! Last night, I was at Bandstand at 1 am , it still buzzed. Imagine, traffic on the highway! 3 am and there's a woman I see, still walking in the park, talking on her phone with nothing to fear. We just sat by the window, counting the cars that went past, and trust me, that was fun (and romantic :P )!!  It's funny how, a tiny bus stop could come to mean so much to me. Or the 5.46 am I took to reach class. It's the little things about the city that makes it so beautiful. The locals giving you directions so precisely or how a single Vada Pav could be enough for a meal. The strange love and hate relationship amongst the neighbors, they'd gossip about you all day long, but they'd also be the first people to come help you out in a crisis. A  Gujju area right next to a Muslim settlement that's just beside a Maharashtrian complex, that's not something you see everywhere! Or even this, just one residential complex with so many people, with different cultures, celebrating Diwali and Christmas and Lohri with the same spirit and aplomb. Mumbai, it's the only place where I can survive, without fear! So, there may be terrorists who want to strike it down, or the local politicians (read: Goons) who deface my beautiful city with the ugly posters or even the lakhs of people who this wonderful city has welcomed with all its love, it's still A L I V E! There's no place else that I could survive.  No other city could ever feel like H O M E to me! M U M B A I, it's where I belong! मुंबई मेरी जान! Truly!