When the toll of the evil rises,
When the noble men is sought to no mercy from their distraught
When the creation is hastened ‘up’ to meet its creator
When humanity is at its peril,
When seeing the next dawn in a single piece is a boon
When life is altogether a rabble
I shall rise
To protect my kinsmen
To curb the uproar
To bring it under control
To evade the fear
For I am Sarathy, Parthasarathy
The leader to lead the man to fight against injustice
Undeterred by the path I follow
I shall lead the men astray
To the light of the guiding principle
Holi is the festival of colors, the day of hues of colors brightening up the dark and dismal lives of many.
This day is considered as the day when Holika, the sister of the evil Asura king Hiranyakasipu, was burned in the pyre while seated along with Prahlad while Prahlad was unharmed by greedily lurking tongues of the flame. This day was celebrated hence as the victory of the good over evil.
Well, for me, this was the first time in life, witnessing a fully fledged Holi celebration. The colors plunged onto the faces, pitchkaris astray and water cannons squirting out their might, made my sight a delightful one.
Everyone looked almost the same as the white Tees transformed into myriad concoction of all colors and faces were gracefully smeared, diluted with sweat becoming a canvas of mismatch. From a distance, it seemed as if clones were partying hard.
The scene was fun till the moment I was spotted clean by my hooligan friends. A cheerful uproar from the gang and I was outpaced by their muscular legs. Since I was outnumbered, my T had a doleful fate and colors went onto the abundance of my face and body.
Still lies the marks of Holi on my face, despite numerous attempts by my hands and soap in conjunction.
A memorable and ‘colorful’ one indeed!!
My Facebook wall being littered with posts about the pride of being single made me understand one thing- jealousy was at its peak. A best friend’s status update knit more loosely to let in more ideas follows:
Oh God, you gave me everything, car, iPhone, laptop, a big house, loving father, doting brother, caring sibling, cuddling puppy, nasty faced maids, nosy neighbors. Everything!
All my friends have crushes and even some of my fat, dark, ugly and pot bellied friends have had the divine intervention of Lord Cupid.
It so happens that when you see some friend walk by with his/her crush, you get that feeling of jealousy and develop hatred towards the whole of mankind. This state aggravates when you see the-girl-who-you-thought-will-be-yours walking hand in hand with her goddamn lover, it is just like piercing in a dagger into your meek little heart.
Why didn’t I just get past at least one girl?
But why not a love in life?
Ain’t I handsome? Am I not that good? I am on the verge of getting a sturdy six pack. I am all fair and handsome. I am tall- the Ranbir Kapoor kinda looks. Yeah, I do have it. On top of all this, the icing on the cake, I am rich. Still, the case seems to get no better.
All I do is flirt and then, it so progresses that even before I open up my heart, they seem to open up theirs and tell me about their love.
All online social marketers were putting love on to their shopping cart to make the love-struck follow suit. Love shaped cups, love shaped cakes, love shaped rings and what not, love shaped thenga-kola?
Was love in the air? Definitely not. All what I could smell was that of the fuming ashes of my long lost love.
After, reading his short but insightful status, I sniggered and let out a sigh, ‘You’ve got company, dude! ;)’
I thought I won’t write on this again.
I thought I will not dig the grave of a now-so-forgotten story.
I kept on thinking, why should I?
After all,what can a normal human being do? A blogger with a blog less than 5 months old cannot create ripples in the minds of the masses.
Then came the thought, why not me?
With all the possible affinity I have, with all the limited number of people I can get access to, with all the people who think upon reading, with all those who wish to act but are bound by the chains of social strife around, here I begin:
India, with all its rich expanses of culture, traditions and richness to glorify the already glorious past, is now going to drains. We are among those few cultures that accepted the predominance of woman in the society. She was considered as a mother, sister and divine incarnation of the goddess herself. But now, she is the underdog in the society now.
She is allotted a special bogie in the train, where she is raped in the midst of a journey. She is made to experience the heist of ruthlessness in a moving bus which wreaked havoc in her life.
People celebrate this with candles and strikes. And this dies down within a week.
May I pose a question to my fellow Indians, what is the purpose of being in a country which is said to be guarded from all sides where women live in full insecurity?
Everyday, she is getting raped. Not physically, but from the deep glares from the men who had an oath saying that all Indians are their brothers and sisters? The deep meaning glares is, if not the root cause, a trigger to this evil.
The lewd Indians makes it shameful for the whole brotherhood to say that they are protecting the dignity given to the womanhood.
If you have feelings that actually requires a female to curb , why not go get it done from those who does it for money? It is this very thought, that makes many say that prostitution should be legalized. It could also be a revenue generator in conjunction with the tourism industry.
Rape does not have a pleasure element in it, rather does have a subjugation part. What a rapist gets is sheer dominance over a fragile, helpless soul writhing in pain. Is the motive satisfied? No. Not at all.
Who benefits upon such a hype of a rape? The media, definitely.They get scoops for appeasing their show spaces and takes the fight for TRPs into a new level. Also benefited are some NGOs and non profitable organizations who take up fighting for protection of women. They get publicized and rake in a lot of money.
Why do we only provide benefit to such thoughts when we ourselves have looked upon her with an eye that casts a negatively impacted charm?
Benefiting from the corpse of a dead woman is sadism. Creating an uproar to get justice is nothing but cowardice. Rather than curing a seemingly incurable disease, why not prevent it?
Preaching is easy, practicing is tough
Jaago India Jaago
A chill went down my spine as I saw her lifeless body.
Well, I really hated seeing her from the first instance. Every time she came into the horizon of my vision, I tried avoiding her.
Her eyes were cute.
Still I despised her.
She poked her nose into everyone else’s matter. Everyone liked it.
I dint like her still.
She was loved and cared by everyone.
That did not alter my mindset.
I did not like her.
But never did I want to see that scene. It is true that to the extent of my hatred towards her had brought about a thought of her never coming back to my life. But I never wanted this to happen.
Her mother was no where to be seen. She did not want to see her only relation on earth lie lifeless. She never would have imagined her little one lying on bare earth with the little heart not pumping life.
She was forcefully brought near the little one.
Her frisky little puppy was dead.
One sniff and the mother dog scurried her way.
Even though I just got a brief glimpse, I could see the crystal orb like eyes moist.
A small breeze brushed past the pup’s little coat fur.
She lay still. The charm of hyper activeness that she possessed would never resurface again.
The naughty little puppy went to the distant land of dreams or would have been reborn. Perhaps as a naughty little kid.
Perhaps… Only perhaps….
A school going girl
Is travelling alone or wearing short dresses a reason?
Well, is it a crime?
Now giving her back her shoes and putting back my shoes, I felt like puking after thinking and writing all these. Just imagine the plight of a lady who has been undergoing so much suffering through out all her lifetime.
Sad, isn’t it?
Still, we do not change. After all these hardships, she sees her sisters across the world undergo miseries. Some get raped too. Hearing all the unpleasant news, she gets stressed.
Instead of looking forward to each passing day, she gets tensed to go out into the cruel world out there.
Rapes are, I believe, frustrations vented out.
India is a country that does not lack the number of women who are more than willing to allow you to use them. Then why is against women who are expected back at home in one piece?
Is it because that going to a place of ill-fame degrading the status you have? As if conducting that heinous crime of rape will maintain it.
A word of caution to all-but-one sisters in the country and all sisters in other countries:
”Be aware. The clan of your opposite sex is not as saintly as you think. Please take care of yourself.”
Her eyes met the hazel eyes of a seeming-to-be young man who was covering his face with a mask. The eyes had no sense of guilt in them.
He could see her eyes yearn for mercy. The eyes clearly had fear shadowed with elements of terror in them.
He signaled his brain to send an impulse to his finger to pull the trigger. The brain wave surge made his finger move, that lead to a heinous crime.
The fraction of a second and it was all over. The finger movement, a shot on her forehead and the shriek from the poor lady.
The soul was fighting its way out from the body which was all drenched in blood. Within a few seconds, the pain struck body transited itself into the lifeless state.
She was dead. A moment of immense pain and she bid farewell to the ruthless world for a journey into the world of peace.
The people who had crowded after hearing the gunshot alerted 911. The man showed no signs of remorse and stood still next to the body. As soon as the police arrived, he surrendered himself without the slightest hesitation.
His hands were bound to the back and was thrown face first to the backseat of the police car. The police ripped off his mask.
He was no more older than the boy next door who was always happy to run errands for your aunt in your absence.
His eyes were lifeless and stone like. He stood there, without the slightest remorse of the crime he had committed.
The police was busy answering to the public and the media.
He sensed a chance and made a dash out of the door. The chief ordered his men not to chase in haste.
Instead, he drew out his Smith & Wesson Model 500 from the holster and shot him.
The aim was perfect. The bullet entered the skull exactly at the same point where it made an exit from the lady’s head.
He collapsed into a lifeless lump of human flesh. With a small grin, the chief walked back to his car. The sergeant opened the door for him with a smile.
Prayers to the departed souls of the Sandy Hook incident
The little ones were struggling to get on to their feet. They were exerting the maximum and pushing themselves hard to stand up. Sometimes they were victorious, sometimes they just rolled down. But they did not give up their fight, the fight with the world outside.
The lush green grass was their playground. Like the hard and fast rule of acclimatization with nature, the four little pups were adapting themselves from the comfort of their mother’s womb to the harsh world outside.
Standing almost 50 feet away was their mother, a while colored female mongrel was standing on the aisle of the walkway waiting for people to throw down bits and pieces of random food articles, out of mercy.
Her eyes had the emotion of helplessness of a street dog. She looked into the eye of every passerby to spare her some sympathy.
Even though while surveying each person with her hazel eyes, her eyes often stole a glance to her little ones.
After gobbling down a couple of bread pieces, she ran towards the pups which made squeals of delight on seeing their mother.
I was just a mere spectator who watched it in wonder , the life and affection of a mother.
It made me think of the plight of a single human mother who has to surmount the daunting roles of a working woman and a doting mother. If she compromises on the former, she and her kids will suffer if the alimony is not huge enough (divorcee) or will become difficult to make ends meet (if husband is deceased/ family not supportive).
Or if she compromises on the latter, the spirit of motherhood burning within every woman would question the integrity of being a mother.
Rekindling this thought provoking question in my mind, I paced my steps back with a salute to my mom and all loving mothers on planet earth.