Fret not, we despise sensitivity.

We are not sensitive. We hurt people at the drop of a hat and we continue to walk as though breeze just went by. We are the most barbaric, crudest, insensitive group of people I have ever heard of. We do not ask a sorry when we know it is a mistake. We take pride in saying we are not sensitive and disguise it in the name of stubbornness.We only know to debate and discuss at length about personal lives of people - be it celebrities, the to -be celebrities, the friends, non-friends, ex-friends etc. We do not know what it means to say I care when we say that. We are We are not sensitive.

I shall tell my child - Dear, be insensitive. Next time a aunty scolds you for stomping over her garden, tell your friends about it and share a laugh. Do not, even by mistake feel bad for it. It is not in us to do so. When your teacher tells you she is upset with the way your class behaves, mutter under your breath that she is a idiot. If possible, comment on her raging pink lipstick to your friend. It is in us to do so.Just do not be sensitive.

This world shall continue to spin, people shall continue to live, marry and reproduce. It will not change if I am sensitive or not. No one shall feel even a tad bad when they discuss a personal anecdote or realise what it means to stamp on a person's words. No one shall ever live life to its fullest, and shall assume that living can be equated to eating,sleeping, partying and loving( of course without sensitivity). And the world shall go on. Insensitively.

On Opinions, Crimes and People

I read this on a fellow blog -

"Opinions are like assholes- everyone has one"! These are my opinions. They don't matter much because they do not bring any change. People live as ever - spitting, throwing garbage, cheating, bribing, but leading a moral life - not smoking, not eating meat, not visiting a prostitute.

Summarises all that I ever wanted to say about how people react, take, approach, understand what is called as living with happiness. Opinions are meant to differ, and so are approaches. It is time we understood it and reacted normally to everything. There is no fun in the screach or in the hush talk about anything at all. What is told below is one such opinion, and you are welcome to share yours.

People live as ever decriminalising the most important actions, and criminlising the pettiest of them - the degree in my opinion. If visiting a prostitute is a crime, then I believe feeling a woman in a bus is also one. If eating meat is a crime ( in some restricted so called upper castes) then wearing leather is also one. I fail to understand the hypocracy involved in most of our actions.

Smoking to me is not a crime. It does not harm anyone (there is no victim) except self. One can debate on passive smoking, but I decide to walk out of the place and I believe almost everyone can do so. Smoking is as good as suicide and it is a personal choice. You, Me or the Nation's Law has no say on it. All that they can say is to not do it in public, which is absolutely welcomed. We become so hypothetical and judgemental about smoking, drinking that we seem to forget basic mistakes like spitting and ogling at people.

I can say this from a past perspective. Prior to two years, I had a perception that all those who drink and smoke are bad. As simple and straighfoward as that. But, I never opened my mouth wide at it, neither criminalised them - but I hated it and never wanted a person who does it next to me. I still do not want. But as I met people around and actually spoke to some of them about it, I realised that I am no person to pronounce it as bad. And no, it cannot be used for a judgemental purpose. One who smokes need not be looked upon as a rapist. Same is the case with drinking. When it comes to forcing or coercion of anything at all, which includes smoking - then it is absolutely illegal. In simpler words - I am Me. I have my own wishes, interests which may include homosexuality and smoking, and I shall remain me. I do not force you to be me, neither do I spread the greatness of Me. However, if you decide to follow me, then I am not responsible for it.

Maya!

To the sanity in me, this seems insane. To the insanity in me, this seems absurdity. But to the self in me, this seems so true.

I often dream of a mother at a hospital, all in white talking to her baby in a cradle. It is a girl child. I dont know where I got this vision, but this sight keeps me troubled. I dont dream during the nights. These are visions that occur during times when the physical body is awake and the mental self is in a journey inward. The mother - She is beautiful and has lines of worry all around her face. The mother, longer hair, stronger frame, but is faintly familar. A face that I get to see only twice a day in the mirror. She is in a conversation with herself. I have faintly tried to record this conversation today.

She opened her petal eyes. Her breaths were small, leveled and measured. The upheavals on her tummy, my palms on it and the vibration of her breath that reverberates all over me - I could not believe it is going to be her last few moments here. She is so tiny, so beautiful and so delicate. She was my dream for months. I had swallowed strips of pills thinking of her minute fingers that my nutrients shall run into. I have followed every advice I heard – sat through long nights when I was unable to turn sideways, and had him hold me to the sides. There she is – all ready to leave me forever. Her feet rose in color and slender in structure. Her hair, curly and dark seemed to be tangled in its own misery. Her face – speckles, Her fingers, long like mine and red with blood. My brain wondered why all that blood could not run to her small thumping heart. My daughter – 3 days old is on her death bed, her cradle. I have cried enough for her, bearing her in my womb for 3 months knowing her end is in her third day.

Enough of trails and tribulations, Enough of prayers and priests and Enough of machines and tubes – Just let my baby go. She needs to get back to her home, and feel safe. I cant bear to see the pain that she endures every time someone speaks about her death. I am unable to stand that I have not yet named her, and yet find her as mine. I need you back darling. Come back safe Maya.

I dont know where I picked it up from. But I hope blogging about this releases this in me. I only hope I have enough strenth to face whatever comes through.

This blog is meant to be purely reflective to myself. Like a mirror.

Eating Out...and Feeling Empty...

A self confessed and a obsessed foodie that I am, I love dining out. My home makes some of the best foods I have ever had, but still a local dine out option is never a no from me. Thankfully, my systems are pretty reselient and my tastes are varied - I never have a problem in eating anywhere as long as it is hygenic and tasty. I dont know if what I read is true about the recession curbing eating out habits, but it is true that I dont like to spend much on a dining. Call it being conservative, but to me 5 star hotels dont appeal a tad more than a good meal with lovely company. At the star hotels, I prefer those with quaint surroundings ( Above Sea Level, Park ) types to the noidy clatter at Dakshin and Mainstreet.

Last evening, 8 adults and 4 children - family and friends went for a dinner to Dakshin. We had kuzhi paniyarams, vazhapazham dosais, idiyappams,set dosais and parottas with delicious kuzhumbus and masalas. The food was yum. Desseert was Elaneer icecream for me :-). Loved it. Yet, yet - It is not worth Rs. 12500 at all.

I feel guilty. For spending so much money on one meal. It is saddening, and I feel so very small when I think of it. Possibly, the happiness of the meal should have satiated my guilt, but it does not do so. It only makes me feel more selfish.

At a time when I am trying to evolve and do someting meaningful than just live and fade, such experiences draw out the colour and make me look so faded and forlorn in the sphere of the globe.

It ain't to be looked down!

This post is on how sometimes, people are looked down upon due to their professions. Sad to say, in an era when we are fighting for equal rights for LGBT’s, there still lays inequality in the crudest form amongst the most educated and polished strata of the society. There is no equality in respect or being, and unfortunately it is all discriminated on education and job!

It is often that we hear people talking low of a job. I am particularly referring only to white collared jobs here. There needs to be a sense of acceptance amongst the elite ones (which sometimes includes the most learned) that there is no reason for him/her to rejoice for being there. If I pass out of a B-School with a amazing pay packaged and job, and my peer decides to stay in the BPO and become a TL there, I have absolutely no business to look down at him/her. If I am here today, it is because of a lot of reasons – my interest, my brains, my parent’s money, the B-school’s efforts and of course luck. I am a firm believer of luck, all said and done. And if my peer is a TL in a BPO, it is his life, his choice and his reason. I have no rights to feel I am better, or more so to feel he is anyway worse than me.

In Sanskrit, there is a phrase which says – “Vidyaa Vinayena Shobhate.” It means education should be combined with humility. It is imporant to do this, because there is no pride in having degrees and not being grown up as a person.

I had to make this point for quite some time now, just that now the time came right.

Repeattt!!

Like thalaivar says - Repeat,and the line goes again! Thats how I feel when I hear this song Genda Phool - Amazing number!

Drink of Colours - A Sherbet experience at Kumbakonam

As mentioned in my earlier post, here is the add on to it! This is also from the same trip. We visited a temple town called as Thirucherai, where the presiding deity is Saranatha Perumal with his consort Saranayaki. This was excerpts from my small tete-a-tete with the sherbet seller there!

Meet Mr. Vasu from Thirucherai

This frail looking young (!) man has been making mocktails at Thirucherai for only 40 years now. Have a look at his colourful conoctions!

Whenever I travel South, I try and whip up as much as I can of these tasty drinks. The different varieties are mostly Nannari Sherbet, Rose Sherbet, Lassi, Neer More, Chilli More, Paneeer Soda, Masala Soda! Vasu's shop sells only the sherbets and more varieties. I always bring back a bottle of Nannari or Rose from Kumbakonam, and treasure it with drinking only a glass a day. I dont offer this to guests as well. It is highly probable that I am not a big fan of aerated drinks, and prefer the natural ones because I have travelled and drunk some of the most tastiest conoctions ever made in this country!

I seem to have a tongue for drinks. Whenever the new name of a drink, preferably made my human hands is announced - I end up drinking it. I dont have water at hotels, but the drinks that I have even in the most obscure places seem to have caused no harm to me. And no, my systems are not the stong bear-it-all types.

Getting back to Vasu, he has 3 children. His youngest son is in college, and the first two daughters have been married off to Chidambaram and Nagapattinam. He is the sole earning member, and all the money that went to the books, jewels and all that jazz was earned by making these delicious drinks! He had his shop at the Thirucherai bus stop, which was removed due to a political party's demand and then he had to station it opposite to the temple.

This trip was in April. Thanks to the heat and the kathiri veyil, we ended up having 7 glasses ( 4 of sherbet and 3 neermore -we were 4 people). He charged us Rs. 35 totally. I dont know what kind of a calculation that was, but it was just that!

Recently, in June I visited Madurai - Alagar Koil. Sad, but there a paneer soda costs Rs. 10 and I was offered colour soda ( read as Pepsi) at most places I asked for Soda. My dear old Soda is slowly dying. I wish one of these MNC's take it up and revive the tasty drink. It wont be all that tough and many like me would have the pride of sharing the taste with their kids!