Thursday, January 10, 2008

Deja Brew

I had some dreams, they were clouds in my coffee. ~Carly Simon

There’s much more to coffee than it being called just a “beverage”. A sorcerer beverage it should be called.

I mean look at the coffee shops today, a lot can happen over a cup of coffee(I am totally “for” this CCD brand statement), coffee and conversations…
CCD, Mochas, Brio, and Barista et al….have you ever heard of “tea” parlors??( Even though it being the most consumed beverage in India)

They are here to stay man!! Look at the precincts….cool jukeboxes with the most soothing songs playing on them, they make coffee all the more sumptuous…and even if certain shops don’t play songs, they make sure they have a live band which is more effective I suppose….wide assortments of daily newspapers….comfy cushion seats…widest array of coffees from around the world…and all of them at “reasonable” rates.. the aroma can compete with the fragrance of first-rain-wet-mud whiff…I mean, you never feel outta place at these coffee kiosks…all just for “coffee”??

And you know what, King Charles was so much miffed with the idea of coffee kiosks that he passed the following resolution way back in 1675:
"A PROCLAMATION FOR THE SUPPRESSION OF COFFEE HOUSES: Whereas it is most apparent that the multitude of Coffee Houses of late years set up and kept within this Kingdom...and the great resort of idle and disaffected persons to them, have produced very evil and dangerous effects; as well for that many tradesmen and others, do herein misspend much of their time, which might and probably would be employed in and about their Lawful Calling and Affairs; but also for that in such houses...divers, false, malicious, and scandalous reports are devised and spread abroad to the Defamation of His Majesty's Government, and to the disturbance of the Peace and Quiet of the Realm; his Majesty hath though it fit and necessary, that the said Coffee Houses be (for the Future) put down and suppressed..."
King Charles II of England, December 23, 1675
This rule was revoked on January 8, due to widespread citizen protest.

Okay…coffee….. as I said, a magical drink!! There IS something very very sensual attached to this drink…..say, does anyone invite someone on a “tea” meeting? Or directly dinner?? First step towards seducing anyone…..first dates- always coffee..I have “bean” there buddies..:P
And who keeps you awake when your futile attempts to keep off your eyes from drooping fails..?? They say, sleep is the ramification of caffeine deficiency ;)
Forget your troubles with a cup of coffee, drown your sorrows in the coffee works, trust me..
And didn’t someone say, drinking coffee comes with a lot of health benefits??? Our great Pope’s frequent ailment was persistent head aches which he cured by inhaling steam of coffee, said Dr. Johnson in The Life Of Pope.

Abhi ke liye itna hi “coffee” hai….

So Be a coffee-drinking individual - espresso yourself!

Does Mumbai Hate Its Women?

The following article was my response to a personal poll conducted in a daily newspaper. There were six people interviewed. The question here was: What are the reasons for increasing number of rapes in Mumbai? Four out of them said that the reason for a rise in this crime is the provocative dressing style of girls now-a-days. They said that girls willingly expose their assets and under such circumstances how can women think that they wont be raped. On being questioned about what measures would they suggest to put hold on the crime, one of them said that ‘purdah’ should be made compulsory, not only for Muslim women but also for others. This is what I replied them back:

In response to: Does Mumbai hate its women?

The responses to your above article dated 8th November,2007 were really beyond belief but still predictable. Four out of your six people surveyed suggested that the whole fault lies on the ‘modern’ girl alone and she is the only one responsible to invite trouble for herself.

This is yet another stronghold of male chauvinism epitomizing the fact that these people want to protect their male fraternity against the rampant increasing heinous crimes subjected to women and girls. This may sound like a really feminist and biased attitude, considering the fact that I am a girl, but the responses have really evoked me to show up my feminist side.

Have they ever considered the fact that women in purdah too are raped and tortured equally? Now will they defend themselves by saying that women shouldn’t come out of their houses and should be confined into the four walls of the houses, live and die there? Speaking about the skin show, the mere subject is totally baseless. People talk as if women are roaming around wearing bikinis. The question is, why can’t men stop drooling all over the place? They are the ones who will keep on staring at you even if you wear a sleeveless dress.

I would also like to highlight the fact that all of those who think that exposure is the main raison d'être for increasing rapes and similar appalling treatment against girls, they have this solitary reason-EXPOSURE. They are visibly unable to present any other reason that can hide the fact that what they are doing is wrong and consequently tend to refute the style of feminine dressing. The recent rape of a BPO employee also goes against this. What could have been a feasible explanation? EXPOSURE? I don’t think so.

No one wants to blame the film industry for depicting such provocative things under the U/A label, no one wants to stand against the open selling of porn movies in Mumbai markets. Aren't these films one of the main factors for "directly" seducing masculine minds? Every one just wants to blame, blame and blame. Yes, even i am doing the same thing.Yes, I understand that to some extent, women are responsible, you can’t clap with one hand. But this crime shows a striking imbalance of attitudes.

It is also seen that most of the girls who are brutally raped mostly belong to poor and lower middle class societies, who have no reason to expose whatsoever. It should be accepted, that rapes are the outburst of men’s barbaric, carnal and sexual desires, nothing more.
Through centuries, this important and relevant topic has been merely reduced to a blame game. Men accuse women and always will and vice versa. Battle of sexes, as they say will persist. Sadly, no one wants to do anything about it.
No one wants to stand up for this fight, no one wants to device the panacea for this. Rapists all over India are roaming at large. It’s high time we stop this warfare and do something to stop this offense and help the poor victims.


Sunday, January 6, 2008

There are only cons of being a pros !!!

"Every night meant death and every morning resurrection of her spirits. ‘People die once, I die every night,’ she thought. She moved ahead, plucking up a rose and smelling it and realized that she almost forgot how it smelled. What she remembered was the smell of the dingy cottage she was given, where every night men reincarnated in the form of hounds would pounce upon her, their starving claws boring callously in her body. The only good part about the job was that she was paid for it-the only thing that could support her three member family."

We know who we are talking about !!! She is always written about as like this. I wanted to name it Pros and cons of being a pros but then we know.....

Go for the news, news papers and stuff that wants to prove an ideal society you will find things written against her...they raise the point of banning prostitution...This that ...If Some womenz caught they want her on their live exclusive and sensational telecast. Lest some legal problem arise they blur the face part and thats it nothing more....Conduct interviews and stuff and big people will discuss upon arising indian problems and finally itz frgotten until another one is caught !!!

Come to the blogs and movies, you will find compassionate scripts dedicated to them... She is dedicated an ample vocabulary. Given a mike to voice her opinion... to say why she has had to choose teh esteemed profession and how she has 3 illegitimate children with 30+ strangers and yet survived to earn a living and sometimes even for a drunkard jobless niggard man !!! Sometimes she recites a poem of her daily schedule and sometimes she simply shares a word and sometimes her dream of bein normal meant a woman !!!!

There is a boy who comes every evening selling parathas to college students. Child labour is bad as well...We entertain it...Cant ban him on child labour reasons...He will loose earning...Best thing was buy things from him and give money... Who will give money jus like that and for how long if he doesnt sell them and simply begs??? Similarly a pros has to do something more than beg...She does pretty much the same as the little boy....But we hear the boy is termed as runnin a family of 5 and the woman nymphomaniac !!! How unjust !!!

People usually associate brash language, vulgar dressing and the body language with the word BAD and hence you will also find their attitude unsociable and hence rule them out as Unchangable and they had always wanted that and so on..... But dont think even for a while that they had to change with the time...C'mon they couldnt go upon thier job with sensitivity and gentleness which would have made their situation worser !!! They fail to trust you even if you try to make them trustable

These woman were so very unlucky that they couldnt earn a job being a house-maid or a school Aaya.... If only ...they were that.... they could get away with terms like low class and other lesser cruel words !!!

Tuesday, January 1, 2008

The Portrait Of A Lady

Her hands weaved the magic,
Not with the wand but with a brush,
With using words laconic,
The fingers moved, without a hush.

Slowly, the brushed touched the paint,
Transforming her figment of imagination onto the canvass,
Her smiling sober face reminded me of a saint,
As she stood on the dais.

With eyes, to her, god didn’t grant,
With every stroke that created a masterpiece, none so great,
She said,
Sometimes life doesn’t give you what you want,
Coz it wants to give you something better.


To My Mother, My God

Why was my mother being indifferent?
I asked myself,
As she left my hand at the gate of my school,
Tears welling down,
My cheeks turning hot,
Didn’t she care enough?

Why was she being rude?
I asked myself,
When she explained me gamut of DONOTS-
Do not play,
Do not hang out with your friends for too long,
Do not bunk lectures, et al,

Didn’t she care enough for my privacy?

What I failed to see was,
Why was she being so patient?
When I blabbered every small thing about my school, friend, and teachers,
Why was she being my mentor?
When I easily gave up,
Why was she my pillar of strength?
When I cried for hours on her shoulder,
Why would her heart bleed?
When I would hurt myself,
Why was she being my angel?
Putting wings to my dreams,
Filling me with optimism,
Turning them into reality.

Now, did I care enough?
Did I ever think that she needed to be thanked for it?
Did I ever thank god for gifting me a mother,
While others were dying so that god could bestow them with
An angel called mother?
It’s true
God cannot be everywhere,
Hence he made a mother,
Now I really want to thank god and my mom,
For, when she brightened my hope in despair,
I didn’t even bother.


There's So Much To Live For

Walking through the boulevard, green precincts, under the faint and but mind captivating moonlight, the cool zephyr blowing her curls-That’s what she enjoyed. Much to her resentment there was only solitude that lacked. She wanted to be just alone, forlorn, away from the hungry eyes of men.

Yes, she thought to herself, that she herself had chosen this path. Sleeping with men and earning something in return only for her children’s survival. Poor children, with the stigma of "illegtimacy" . She didn’t even know who their father was. She desperately wanted to be with herself. She wanted to feel the air that touched her, she wanted to breath, and most importantly she wanted to live. Live a life that she only dreamed of.

Every night meant death and every morning resurrection of her spirits. ‘People die once, I die every night,’ she thought. She moved ahead, plucking up a rose and smelling it and realized that she almost forgot how it smelled. What she remembered was the smell of the dingy cottage she was given, where every night men reincarnated in the form of hounds would pounce upon her, their starving claws boring callously in her body. The only good part about the job was that she was paid for it-the only thing that could support her three member family.

She knew people like her had no respect in the society. What was she-a prostitute, slut, hooker, or a whore? Why wasn’t she called a woman? A simple word-woman. So deep and meaningful. So considerate and respectful. The society has always had this preconceived notion about woman- married, housewife and the caretaker of their children. Wasn’t she a woman? This unanswered question drove her crazy.

Walking with these inescapable thoughts she reached a deep valley. Maybe I have no reason to live, otherwise why would god lead me to this road? Her children’s face came across her mind in a flash.


She felt some harsh movements of fingers on her body. She opened her eyes. The same ravenous eyes.
“Who sent you?” she asked.
“Does that matter?” he asked flinging a big bunch of money on her face.
“No, but…” she continued.
“Pecuniary interest… think ..u can’t refuse this much money...can you?”
"I can't do this....uh...."
…………..she remembered her daughter telling her how much she wanted a new dress to wear…….and she died again that night….

She resisted the temptation,
But she still gave in,
She realized what she did was wrong,
She realized what she did,
was against every proposed good thing,
She wished to look into the eyes of death,
then it struck-